


For We Are Many

by venomRED



Series: Paragon: Savior in the Stars [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 300,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomRED/pseuds/venomRED
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rebuilt over two years by a terrorist organization he swore to destroy, Commander Shepard struggles to reclaim his past, while recruiting the best the galaxy has to offer in a bitter fight against the greatest threat the galaxy has ever faced.  (Rated M for Language/Violence/Adult Content)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrulyCertain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyCertain/gifts).



> For We Are Many: Dedication and Foreword  
> 03/25/2016
> 
> For We Are Many was my sophomore entry into the fanfiction writing foray, and I feel very deeply that no matter how my career goes from here, whether or not I actually become the author I want to be, this piece of writing will always hold a special place in my heart as the years-long labor of love that really opened my eyes to the fact that it was possible. It wasn't a pipe-dream, it wasn't wishful thinking; it was a dream I had harnessed and fought for, and could really make progress at if I sincerely tried. The time span of writing this work is incredible. I began the process literally the day after I finished The Darkest Night, riding the high of having completed a novel, and promising myself I'd be writing a sequel with around four times the content to get through at the same pace. It makes me laugh to remember exactly how I felt, and compare that to the reality of what crazy events happened in my personal life that would rip me away from the story for two or three months at a time, only to allow me to come back and just barely sink back into the work before another crisis arose.
> 
> My poor fans suffered during the writing of For We Are Many; possibly more than I did. I can't count the number of private messages and emails I received asking if I had abandoned ship, if I'd given up on the piece, and each one was a knife in the chest, a pang of guilt. I had people legitimately invested in words that I had written, hanging on to see what happened next. That in and of itself was a huge motivator for me, and I returned to the project as often as I could. If not for my own sanity, at the very least for theirs. For We Are Many saw me through the end of a seven year relationship that had been moving south since year two, my completion of my first and second college degrees, becoming engaged and then married to a wonderful and supportive woman, and obtaining a decent job that would actually allow me to write on a regular basis. It had been my constant companion for the almost three years it took to finish, and on many long nights working on it was the only thing keeping me sane. This book is where, I feel, I really hit my stride. Even after the tenth or eleventh re-reading, I still get goosebumps when reading Wrex and a warm heart when reading any of the romantic pairings that fill its pages. In the three years it took to write, this novel took a piece of me, and I can still see it every time I open it up.
> 
> The dedications on this book, since I'm not sure if Ao3 will tag them, are four authors of ME fanfiction on FF.net: Andrio, Tairis Deamhan, Calinstel, and Rose. Andrio and Tairis were great sources of cultural and story arc mapping information, and Calinstel as you know if you read book one was the very inspiration for the quarian language and phrases used throughout that work. Rose was altogether different. She was a marvel to work with; someone who would read your work at 3 in the morning just for the hell of it, because she enjoyed helping those she considered her colleagues and friends. She was kind, but honest, and is the reason I feel so positively about a lot of what's written in this book. In one of my two to three month gaps, I fell out of contact with her, and when I returned she had finished writing on FF.net and left forever. It's still one of the things that I regret the most, as she was a true friend and a fantastic writer of her own. If by some chance she ever reads this, I hope she knows that I'm eternally grateful to her for her support both literary and personal. And that this book, while influenced by the other three authors in that list, is dedicated entirely to her.
> 
> And so it is with great pleasure, and a sincere hope that you'll find some real resonance within, that I present to you book two of three: For We Are Many.

**_For We Are Many  
_ Introduction**

* * *

_For_ _We_ _Are_ _Many_ is the direct sequel to _The_ _Darkest_ _Night_ , and indeed begins about twenty minutes after the Epilogue of that first work. This piece is, in essence, a Mass Effect 2 redux, with some canonical items changed around to incorporate a slightly altered plotline. You'll see many references to things from _The_ _Darkest_ _Night_ , as I intend for my works to not only stand alone, but also all be parts of one large, overarching series, utilizing the same characters and plot developments.

 _Ergo_ , if you haven't read _The_ _Darkest_ _Night_ , I'd start there. =)

 **Dedication** :

This work is dedicated in equal measure to four people. In no specific order, they are:

 **Calinstel**  
**Tairis** **Deamhan**  
**Andrio**  
**Rose** **Tinted** **Contact** **Lenses**

Without their wonderful contributions to this site, my work wouldn't exist. I've drawn inspiration from Calinstel's rich quarian lore and language, as well as Rose's ability to completely invade a character's mind, and describe in excellent detail, and so few words, exactly what that character is thinking, how they're reacting to the situation at hand. I've drawn from Tairis' ability to broaden the scope of a widely known but not terribly fleshed out side-plot, and Andrio's capability to masterfully trace a character arc over a huge period of time, while at the same time keeping that character ever someone the reader can relate to.

These four were my main inspiration for starting work on _The_ _Darkest_ _Night_ , but every so often I find an author who can at the very least show me a side of this wonderful universe I haven't seen before. If you're wondering whether or not to start writing, just **start** **writing** , and see what happens. The _worst_ you could do is waste a couple hours trying to reinvent the wheel. The _best_ you could do...well I personally feel that's listed above, within the works of the people I've mentioned. (=D)

Right, then. Enough raving about people who write better than I do (=D). To all of those joining me from _The_ _Darkest_ _Night_ , welcome back! I hope the "break" wasn't too much of a strain (=P). And to anyone just joining, welcome as well, I feel you're in for a real treat!

As of the time of writing this Foreword _(1:21am_ _U.S._ _EST_ _10/24/11)_ , I still have a good bit of Java Programming homework left to finish off. Expect the Prologue up probably around this time tomorrow. Can you live for 24 hours? I know it'll be rough for me!

Oh and for anyone concerned, expect the **same** pace as before, with about **four** **times** the content to write. (=D)

Let's get this party started. Happy Reading!

**~venomRED**


	2. Prologue: My Enemy's Enemy

*****EDIT NOTE*****  
Thanks to a couple of you who pointed out some inconsistencies. Guess that's  
what you get for writing at 2am =P All fixed!

***Author's Note***  
To the faithful, welcome back! To the newly initiated, I hope you've already  
read _The Darkest Night_! I'm kicking off my Mass Effect 2 redux here, and I'm both  
excited and terrified. If _TDN_ hit about 110k words, then _FWAM_ will probably  
weigh in around 300-400k; there are just so many characters and plot points  
to write about. I just realized the other day that the whole series when done will  
probably break a million. That just boggles my mind.

One think I think many people will want to expect from _FWAM_ is that I don't plan to be  
spending a lot of time re-writing the missions themselves. While I certainly will  
have the crew go on them, and write them, expect those sections to be fairly  
fast-paced and not overly-detailed unless there's a character-specific moment.  
(For example: Grunt's recruitment mission, probably not a lot written there. Taking  
back the Alarei / Tali's whole loyalty mission in general, probably a damn huge  
chapter) Also expect many scenes aboard the Normandy or planet-side on worlds  
that weren't in the game, as I like using these "unheard" side-trackings to develop  
characters and relationships.

OKAY! Enough rambling, venom, let the story speak for itself. And stop talking to yourself,  
people will start to think you've gone 'round the bend.

Oh are you all still here? Well get reading already, jeez! =D

* * *

 _**Plot Note**_  
This would be more apparent if I hadn't started with TDN, but in my redux of  
ME1, Shepard comes across the name Illusive Man in his Cerberus investigations. Be aware  
of that, it will make actions later in the chapter more understandable. =)

* * *

 _**For We Are Many  
** _ **Prologue: My Enemy's Enemy**

* * *

 

Human beings have used words to describe not only their own feelings and emotions, but their opinions on certain aspects of life, for thousands of years. Indeed, every species in the galaxy uses some form of communication to impart the contents of their mind to others. And while many people had used such lofty terms as "Hero of the Citadel," and "Savior of the Galaxy," even "Bane of the Geth," on certain occasions, Commander John Shepard would have cringed to hear those terms used. On an average day, he would have preferred to just be referred to as "a brave soldier," "a loyal friend," or even "a good son," but this was **not** an average day. And so right now, in this distinct moment of his life, one descriptive phrase arose that was most applicable to his current state.

John Shepard was excessively confused.

"I-I'm sorry, you're going to have to repeat that to me!" he yelled over the assailing fire of the mechs. The security chief crouched down beside him nodded his head, as if in understanding of Shepard's inability to grasp what he'd just been told. He pointed to the mechs with one finger, and Shepard's frustration grew. Giving a quick glance to the three mechs on the far platform, Shepard exhaled slowly, before standing up quickly and dragging the barrel of his pistol across his entire field of vision in front of him. He squeezed the trigger three times as the gun moved. Three headshots. Three mechs fell to the floor before exploding. Ducking immediately back into cover, Shepard spoke again, this time able to do so in a normal speaking voice.

"Okay. I'm going to need you to repeat that." His mouth agape, still staring at the mechs Shepard had cleaned up, the other man fumbled for words for a moment before finding his conversational footing.

"R-Right. Sorry, that was…anyway. You've been dead for two years, Commander. Two years and twelve days if you want to get detailed." Shepard's mind reeled. He was **sure** he had misheard the man over the gunfire. Two years? Anything could have happened to his team…to her…His gaze, which had drifted to the side in disbelief, snapped back to the man, Taylor he had called himself, Shepard's deep green eyes boring into his own.

"What about my crew, did they make it?" Jacob collapsed and stowed his pistol as he spoke.

"Most did. There were a few servicemen from the lower decks in Engineering who didn't make it out. But all the non-Alliance crew were registered in the life pods. You, and about twenty or so enlisted men and women from the lower decks, were the reported casualties. The ship itself crashed into Alchera, along with your body…" he trailed off, and Shepard unconsciously raised a gloved hand to examine it.

"Taylor…what the hell **am** I?" His thoughts turned to terror and fear. What…what if he wasn't even who he thought he was? What if he was some kind of sick human experiment? As if reading his thoughts, Taylor stepped forward, clapping him on the side of the shoulder.

"You're still you. You're not a clone or some mech with a mapped consciousness. The boss said he wanted you exactly as you were. Don't get me wrong though, you were just a pile of meat and tubes when you got here, so while I'm no surgeon I'd bet you have more tech in there than an Alliance dreadnought, but your mind is still yours, Commander." Shepard nodded slowly, content with the answer for now.

"Alright, so this is a medical station, why are the mechs attacking?" Taylor removed his hand, shrugging at the question.

"You and I are in the same boat there, Commander. No idea. I was just going over some reports in my office when I got the distress calls on my omni-tool. They look hacked, but I'm no tech expert. I just shoot 'em till they explode. Shepard grins, and though the scars on his face burn like a hot iron at the action, it doesn't diminish his happiness as memory flashes in front of his eyes.

" _You sure you want in on this? I don't even know what to expect down there, but it won't be pretty." He tells himself he's just making sure everyone on his team knows the risks, but if he asks himself for the honest truth, he knows he's trying to protect her, keep her safe. She tilts her head in confusion._

" _Are you really asking the_ _ **quarian**_ _girl if she's sure she wants 'in' on killing_ _ **geth**_ _?" he laughs softly, he had expected this reaction from her, and while he doesn't like sending her into dangerous territory, he knows she can handle it. She's kind, caring, and completely ruthless on the battlefield._

" _Yea, stupid question," he says with a smile, and she tilts her head to respond with one of her own. "Just don't be surprised if they've already created a new type of platform with all the time it's taken us to catch up to Saren…" he trails off, bitter about the sense of failure he feels. Saren is lightyears ahead of them in this race, and he needs to catch up fast. She places her hand on his shoulder, and he looks back down into her eyes. She tilts her head in a warm smile, and answers his concern steadily._

" _Every geth dies somehow." She shrugs in exaggerated confidence. "Worst case scenario, we just shoot at it until it explodes. That plan's never failed us before." He laughs, a loud cathartic sound, his nerves relaxing_ _. She turns to walk out the door so he can get his gear, and he grabs it, following her out the door; following her into Hell._

 _They say he's tough. He's strong. He's a natural leader. But he'd follow_ _**her** _ _anywhere._

Shepard's mind re-focused on the situation at hand, and he nodded to Taylor.

"Okay, we need to get to a shuttle and get out of here. What's the quickest way to the ha—"

" _Help! Is anyone alive out there? I need help!"_ Taylor's omni-tool crackled to life with the strained voice of someone he apparently knew. He tapped the communication and replied.

"Wilson? Where are you? Where's Miranda?" Shepard noted some concern enter his voice as he spoke. The tech replied after a brief moment.

" _I'm in Server Room B, the mechs shot me when they came online, and I'm bleeding out! I don't know where Miranda is, we got separated when the attack started. Get over here and help me, now!"_ The comm channel cut, and Taylor nodded to Shepard, re-arming himself and making for the door.

"This way, Shepard. And keep your guard up, we're heading deeper into the mech wing."

* * *

"Come on, Wilson, faster on that door!" Taylor yelled as he and Shepard took down mech after mech, waiting for Wilson to hack the final door before the shuttle. They had found Wilson, alive but bleeding profusely out of his leg. A quick application of medi-gel had seen to that problem, though Wilson had seemed…surprised?...to see him alive. He had limped the entire way from the Server Room to here, and though Shepard wasn't one to come down hard on soldiers who had been injured in battle, it sure seemed like he was taking his time with that door.

 _Cut that out, Shepard._ He thought to himself, _the man's been shot at, he's not a soldier, he's a tech. Besides, the last tech expert you had on your team was a quarian genius, so you're not really in a place to complain._ Nodding in agreement, he blew apart the head of another mech. Looking over to Taylor, he nodded, confirming the field was clear of hostiles as they stowed their weapons. The shot ringing out behind them caught them both off-guard. They spun in time to see Wilson crumpling to the floor, the woman who had held him on the table now holding the smoking gun. Whipping his pistol back out, he trained it on her head as she collapsed and lowered her own.

"What the **hell** , Miranda?" Taylor was crossing to her in an instant. Shepard saw the woman's eyes light up briefly, then become hard as stone again.

"He was responsible for the mech attack. I have proof on my omni-tool. Wilson knew how to disable every Cerberus security camera in this facility. Unfortunately for him, I haven't trusted him an inch since the _incident_." Her pointed stare swung over to Shepard as she continued, his gun still leveled at her head. "Commander, I'm happy to see you up and about, how are you feeling?" He slowly lowered his weapon, collapsing it as he spoke.

"My head's pounding, my face is on fire, and I've been three seconds away from death since the second I woke up." He paused, and they waited. "So…par for the course, I guess." Taylor let out a single surprised laugh, Miranda just smiled, but the gesture didn't seem to reach her eyes. She struck him as dangerous, a coiled viper with the ability for verbal pleasantries. He would be keeping an eye on her.

"Glad to see your personality remains unaffected thus far," she said, turning to the shuttle bay beyond the door. Stepping around Wilson's body, Taylor and a reluctant Shepard followed her. Stopping at the door, Shepard turned back to look down the empty hallway. The alarms still rang in warning throughout the facility.

"What about survivors? There could be others back there." Miranda shook her head while standing in the doorway of the shuttle, waiting for him to join them.

"They're expendable, Shepard. I know you don't like hearing that, but they knew it themselves when they signed on. This whole facility was built for one purpose: bringing **you** back. If you die trying to save some lab technician, not only will you have ruined everything this station was working towards, but I will personally bring you back to life **again** just to kill you myself." He crossed his arms over his chest. She wanted to pay the badass game. Shepard was no stranger to that.

"Try it. I've been taking orders since I woke up and frankly I'm getting a bit sick of it. No, you two go on ahead, I think I'll head back in and see who else I can help." He pointed with a thumb back over his shoulder, and the woman fumed visibly before stepping out of the shuttle. She closed the gap between them wordlessly, only the sharp _click_ ing of her heels indicating her arrival. Stopping inches in front of his face, her icy gaze never left his eyes as she activated her omni-tool, bringing up vital reports of the entire crew of Lazarus Station. When she spoke, her words dripped with disdain.

"I am the project director of this station, the top level of authority here. **This** ," she said, tilting her head towards her omni-tool's display, not breaking her gaze, "is an active list of every person on this station. As the red indicators next to their names will show you, **everyone** on this station except for the three of us is dead or dying. There is **nothing** left here, so let's go." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and stalked back towards the shuttle, entering the hatch and taking a seat next to Taylor. Shepard squeezed his eyes shut, hands clenching and unclenching of their own accord, trying to bleed off the stress of the last hour into the air around him.

 _That's your only way off this station,_ a voice in his mind said softly. _Can't find your way back to her if you can't even get off this thing._ Nodding slowly to himself, he stepped forward, getting into the shuttle and taking the seat across from them.

"Has Jacob told you anything?" She refused to make eye contact with him as she examined her omni-tool.

"He said I've been…out of commission for just over two years."

"That's correct, and you'll need to be brought back up to speed. Which is something we'll be able to do for you after you speak with our boss." Shepard tensed.

"I take it he's responsible for all of this?" he tried to sound casual, looking out the window at the stars as their shuttle jettisoned away from the station. Taylor spoke up.

"Yea, the Illusive Man dropped billions of credits into this proje—" his words cut off as Shepard's pistol leaped into his hand, extending and aiming right at the man's face. Sliding slowly on the bench, Shepard moved to keep both of the agents in close firing range as he seethed.

"Cerberus. I'd say I should have known, but why the **fuck** would Cerberus of all people bring me back?" Taylor's eyes were wide, but the woman hadn't started or even ceased searching through medical logs in her omni-tool. Even now, her attention remained on it as she spoke.

"Please put that away, Commander. This shuttle is on an automatic course, and we're under strict orders to take no action against you. Regardless of how you feel about this organization, we **did** bring you back, and all the Illusive Man asks is to speak with you. After that you're free to make your own decisions." Slowly lowering his weapon, Shepard collapsed it and stared out the window. _Make my own decisions…right. I'm sure it will be_ _ **just**_ _that simple._ Sighing softly, he spoke while gazing at the stars.

"Fine. But I'm _keeping_ my gun."

* * *

" _Commander Shepard,"_ the voice began. The room around Shepard altered, and before him sat an older man, graying hair with traces of white at his temples. In one hand he held a lit cigarette, in the other a glass. He gave off the same dangerous feeling as the woman had, and he played defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as the man continued. " _Good to see you're unharmed. How are you feeling?"_

"Better than your organization should **want** me feeling, I'd think, given our history." The man smiled, a vicious gesture.

" _Despite your beliefs, and your previous…interference…with our operations, you and I are on the same side in the only fight that matters, Shepard. War is coming, with the greatest threat this galaxy has ever faced. A threat that the ruling body of the galaxy still refuses to admit exists."_ Shepard's mind seized. **How** had he forgotten about them?

"The reapers…" he thought aloud. The man nodded.

" _Good to see your memory is still intact. Though right now it isn't the reapers you should be worried about. We don't know where they are or how to combat them. I brought you back to fight them, but that's a long-term goal. What I was hoping to have your help with right now, would be this."_ The figure reached to the side of his chair and tapped a few keys. A small planet sprang to life over the surface of the arm of his chair. " _Freedom's Progress. It's a human colony here in the Terminus. Recently, it went dark, which wouldn't be too uncommon except that it's just one in a string of missing colonies._ _Normally the Alliance gets to them first, but we've caught the emergency transmission first now, and I need you to look into it."_ A long silence hung between them before Shepard spoke.

"I don't trust you."

" _I realize that. But I can promise you I'm very interested in what's happening to these colonies. You will have full command of the team on this mission, Shepard. It's the reason I brought you back. I didn't invest billions of credits and two years of advanced surgical procedures into you just to stab you in the back."_

"I'm taking your lackeys, going to this colony, and then I'm out of here, understood? I could find Sovereign down on that colony world, and I'm **still** walking after this mission, is that clear?" The figure just smiled.

" _Crystal, Commander. See what you find down there, and if it's nothing of interest, we can part ways. I'll send you back to the Citadel myself."_ Shepard waited, staring the man in the eyes for a moment before nodding and turning to go. The image of the room faded behind him, and he seethed as he stalked back up the stairs to the main room. Working with Cerberus; chained like a dog. There was no way the Illusive Man was letting him walk away from this, regardless of what he claimed. Looking around, he saw Taylor and the other operative, Miranda if he recalled correctly, watching him. Their gaze felt like targeting sights on his back, and made him resent the situation he was in even more.

"Get your shit together," he growled at them, stalking across to the shuttle's airlock door. "We're going to go look at this colony," _and then I'm out of here,_ he mentally added.

* * *

As the shuttle lifted off and flew silently toward Freedom's Progress, Shepard resumed his vigil, watching out the window and wondering how the hell he was going to find her. Sighing softly behind his helmet, he tucked the thought away and turned to Taylor and Miranda.

"Alright," he said, earning their attention. "What have I missed?"


	3. John

***Author's Note***

This was originally going to be one huge chapter, but not only did it end  
up almost breaking 9k words in one chapter, I also found a nice break point in  
which to split it up. So this is Freedom's Progress, Pt. 1. Part 2 will be up  
probably within the next 24 hours.

I'm very interested in everyone's opinion on this chapter, especially  
since I've re-written **everything** and pretty much thrown the ME2 script  
out. On that note, please tell me what you think of my new reunion, as  
I've spent...quite a few hours thinking about **just** this scene; it really  
sets the tone for the beginning of the whole piece.

And now, without further speculation, I give you the chapter _The  
Darkest Night_ prepared you for.

Enjoy, and thanks for all the reviews and adds. =)

* * *

**John**

John sat back against the bulkhead of the shuttle as it closed with Freedom's Progress. Through the side viewport, he could see the planet begin to grow larger as they approached, but John wasn't looking at the planet. He was looking through it, through space itself, lost in thought at what they had told him. He ran down the list in his mind, still shocked at all the change two years could bring. At least Anderson was doing well as Councilor; he had been unsure whether or not to recommend his old captain for the position, but now he was certainly glad he had, he would have to face the Council eventually, and he would be glad to have at least one of them on his side.

"Commander," Miranda's icy voice reached across the shuttle to him, bristling the hair on the back of his neck as he heard it. "We'll be touching down at Freedom's Progress in approximately fifteen minutes. The Illusive Man has stated clearly that **you** are in charge of this mission completely. Do you have any orders for us?" His gaze moved away from the viewport and slid across the two operatives. Lawson wore an impenetrable stone mask, and he almost groaned internally thinking about working with her. _Just this mission, then you'll be out of here, whether they let you walk or you shoot your way out, you're_ _ **not**_ _becoming some lapdog for Cerberus._ The thought reassured him as he looked to Jacob. The man looked…almost in awe. He **had** been quite the fighter back on Lazarus Station, and he had helped Shepard to at least understand what had been done to him. John made a mental note to be at the very least cordial to the man next time they spoke. In an instant, Commander Shepard mode came online, and he was steel.

"The colony may still have survivors of whatever happened here. You say you've never found anyone before, but you've never been the first ones on the scene, either. Helping any and all survivors is the primary objective. Nothing will tell us what happened here better than an eyewitness." Jacob nodded once, but emphatically. Miranda dipped her head the slightest inch, the smallest acquiescence.

"Understood, Commander."

The shuttle touched down on a landing pad covered in snow, and the side hatch opened with a soft _hiss_. Pushing outwards and upwards, Shepard lifted the hatch and stepped out, his boots crunching the three or four centimeters of snow that dusted the ground beneath them. He looked around him at the colony with an appraising eye. For a colony, let alone one in the Terminus, it was fairly large. Pre-fab buildings painted the landscape as far as he could see, and on the horizon, through the softly-falling snow, he could see a few larger buildings, storage sites probably. A soft-spoken " _Commander?"_ brought him out of his assessment, and he turned around to see Jacob handing him an assault rifle. He had been told about the thermal clip revolution while in the shuttle, and Jacob had shown him how to eject and reload on all the different weapon types, but after taking the rifle from the man with a nod of thanks, he went through the motions again, just to be sure. Jacob stepped up beside him, checking over his own weapons as Miranda programmed the shuttle behind them.

"Nice snowfall," he mused quietly, and Shepard nodded. "Reminds me of home." Shepard turned his head to look at the man, arching an eyebrow behind his helmet to ask the unvoiced question. "Hmm? Oh, Northeast, pretty heavy winters." Shepard nodded, turning back to his rifle. A short pause was broken by his furthering the conversation. "Did it ah…ever snow on Mindoir?" Shepard's hands stopped their analysis of the rifle abruptly, and he simply stood, looking down at it, and breathing. His eyes rose to meet Jacob's, and the man met his gaze, though he was clearly uncomfortable now. Good. He needed to know where the line was. Still holding the man's gaze, Shepard replied.

"Rarely." Miranda joined them then, and he continued coldly. "Move out."

* * *

"Alright, Tali'Zorah, here we are." Prazza's voice came over her comm system as the team approached a small pre-fab building that sat in the middle of the fork in their path. They had seen this on the map beforehand, and the area layout had imparted that the building was some kind of communications hub for the colony.

"Good. Amys, get to work on the door, please. Prazza, you and the marines fan out around the building in case it takes her some time." Nodding, he gestured to his team, and they moved to encircle this side of the building. Satisfied, Tali ascended the four small stairs to stand beside Amys as she hacked the door. She heard the girl humming a tune she recognized as she worked, and a smile spread across her face behind her visor. Tapping over to their private comm frequency, she spoke.

"Nothing ever seems to dampen your spirits, Amys'Vael." A short laugh from the other woman replied in her helmet.

" _Oh, to be honest I'm pretty on edge right now, ma'a—erm, Tali. Sorry, have to keep up decorum on the wide channel."_ Tali nodded, she understood. _"This empty colony, no evidence of a fight…it's like they built the place and then just decided not to use it. Aside from the tables full of food we've seen when passing through buildings, I'd think no one had_ _ **ever**_ _lived here…"_ she trailed off, and gave a short cry of success as the door slid open. The two of them entered, checking all the terminals for any relevant information. The only thing of interest was an updated area map that clearly labeled all sections of the colony. Downloading it to her omni-tool, she turned to leave when Prazza's voice cut into her helmet.

" _Tali'Zorah, we've got more mechs coming forward. They're going down easily enough, but we should consider choosing a path soon."_ Stepping back outside with Amys, she allowed the door to the comm building to close behind them, rejoining Prazza and his team. They were just cleaning up the last of the mechs when she and Amys arrived. Opening the new map, she held it out to him.

"One path leads to the storage and research facilities, the other to administrative offices. All we saw when landing was Veetor running down the path we just came along so…he could have gone either way. I'd be willing to bet both areas have a security terminal that Veetor could have used to activate the colony's defenses."

"We could just pick one and double back if necessary." She shook her head slowly, pulling up her chrono as she spoke.

"No, if Veetor's suit has been compromised, he doesn't have much time, and we've been here almost an hour already. The inventory reports for this colony indicate all they have are LOKI and FENRIS mechs, so nothing we can't handle if we split up. Prazza," she decided, turning to look at him, "take your squad and head for the storage and research areas, Amys and I will head for the administrative buildings. Area readouts report less mechs there, so a team of two should do fine." He nodded, and gestured to his marines. They turned to follow him, and they took the right path, heading deeper into the colony.

"Well I guess that leaves us to bravely charge the…administrative offices…" Amys let the fervor in her voice die as she ended her sentence, and Tali laughed at her remark, nodding to her and taking point as they followed the left path away from the fork.

* * *

"One less!" Miranda shouted as her biotics flung a LOKI mech into the harsh steel siding of a pre-fab unit. The mech's body crumpled under the force, and Shepard mentally added yet another reason to keep a wary eye on the woman. Another mech fell to Jacob's heavy pistol, and Shepard turned quickly, spotting the FENRIS mech rounding the corner at a breakneck run. Rushing forward to meet it, Shepard raised his rifle, clipping off shots into the machine's optical sensors. As the red light on its faceplate shorted out, Shepard fired a concussive round from the rifle's secondary firing slot. The blast sent the blind mech flying backwards, and Miranda overloaded its systems, causing it to twitch for a moment and then explode.

Moving forward, Shepard overrode the access panel to the pre-fab unit in front of them, scrunching up his face unconsciously with the effort. Shepard could hack a system, that wasn't a problem, but he most certainly wasn't a prodigy. Anything more than a simple locking script would cause him great difficulty; luckily out here in colonial space, that was all they had. Even so, the effort took most of his concentration. _What I wouldn't give to have Tali with me for this one,_ he thought to himself, smiling as he realized the full truth of the statement. The door opened after a moment, and the trio walked in, looking around for any sign of survivors.

"Deserted…" Jacob began, "Look, Commander, there are trays still on the table. It's like everyone just…got up and left in the middle of dinner." Shepard looked around uneasily. This was the third pre-fab they had come across in exactly the same state: No signs of battle, no signs of struggle, just…empty buildings and the silent snowfall.

"Let's keep moving, the map we've got shows a split in the path ahead, looks like the colony is laid out like a diamond." Moving forward again, Shepard watched the snow fall steadily around them as they explored the colony. After a few minutes, and a few defeated mechs, they reached a crossroads. Holding up his omni-tool, Shepard spoke to the Cerberus agents. "Looks like the left path heads toward the research labs in the back. There's some large building outlines there as well, probably heavy storage. The right path leads to…a courtyard of some sort." Looking to his right, he could see down the path. Pre-fab units lined both sides of the walkway, and squinting, Shepard could make out a large expanse further ahead.

"Commander," Miranda began, "The map also shows some administrative offices on the far side of that courtyard. Given the standard layout of this colony, I'd be inclined to think the security wing to be near the research areas. Though a like security terminal could also be installed in the administrative structures, as a failsafe shut-off." Shepard nodded at her assessment.

"You and Jacob head towards the research areas. I'm going to check the courtyard ahead and the administrative buildings for survivors."

"Commander, I really don't think it's a good idea to—" he cut her off, turning to glare through his visor.

"Miranda, hundreds of geth, a rogue spectre, and a reaper couldn't kill me. It took a surprise attack by an enemy dreadnought with tech more advanced than anything this galaxy has ever seen to take me out. I **seriously** doubt a handful of mechs can do the job." She glowered, and he smiled behind his mask. He had been put in charge, but clearly she had expected him to 'carefully consider her suggestions.' That was not happening. As long as Shepard was in charge of this mission, she would know it. A long pause hung between them, and she sighed heavily before nodding to Jacob. Wordlessly, the two of them walked down the left path, and away from him.

Once they had gotten to a safe distance, John heaved a sigh of relief, tilting his head up and watching the snow fall onto his visor. For the first time since he'd woken up, he was alone. After savoring the moment, he turned and began to walk down the right path, checking every unit as he walked by. He found them all deserted, and uneasiness continued to wash over him. Reaching the last unit before the courtyard, he opened it and stepped inside. Empty, unaltered, abandoned. With a sigh, he exited, taking each of the three small steps down to the path with heavy, laden, movements. Tapping his comm link, he spoke to the agents.

"Miranda, Jacob, found anything?" The woman's response was immediate.

" _Only a few mechs, all the buildings are still empty. With your permission we'd like to skip the last few and make for the research facilities, Commander. Worst case scenario we can always double back."_ He nodded as he spoke.

"Fine go ahead, but we're checking those other pre-fabs before we leave. I've cleared this row of them, heading into the administrative building now. Flag me if something goes wrong."

" _Copy that, Commander."_

Stepping back onto the path, John turned and walked alone into the courtyard. The snow had begun to pick up a bit, and it made it hard for him to see very far. Though at the edge of his range of vision he thought…no. Quarians? Bringing up his omni-tool, he accessed the personnel records of Freedom's Progress. One quarian was listed, Veetor'Nara. Shepard nodded. The Flotilla must have somehow found out about the comm blackout as well, and sent their own people in to contact him.

Smiling to himself, Shepard walked calmly out into the courtyard, collapsing his pistol at the small of his back and keeping his hands visible. They were both here for the same reason, surely they could work together to find out what happened here. _Besides,_ Shepard thought with a lightness entering his heart, _if I'm lucky, they'll be able to give me some idea of Tali's whereabouts._ He let the smile on his face grow a bit. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

"Empty. Just like the others." Tali sighed as she stepped out of the pre-fab unit. Amys was already at the one across the path from her, hacking the door to check it out for herself.

"What **does** this, Tali? How did all these people just…disappear?" Tali shook her head as she walked to the next door, almost **knowing** her actions were futile. It would be empty, they were all empty.

"I don't know, Amys. It's unnerving." Her hands worked furiously at the door's access panel, but suddenly her resolve failed, and she pulled them away in frustration. "Come on; let's check the main administrative building. We'll probably find more information in there than looking through these random buildings." Turning away from the door, Amys nodded, and the two of them walked to the end of the path. As she walked, Tali smiled at the snowfall, remembering Noveria again, remembering John. She giggled quietly behind her visor, remembering the snowballs he'd thrown at her, and the one she'd thrown at Garr—her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Amys' pistol unlocking and her voice as she swung it forward.

"We've got contact, across the courtyard, Tali," Tali brought her shotgun to bear in the direction Amys had her weapon pointed, and sure enough there was a figure walking towards them. The snow had begun to pick up, and it was difficult to make out any details, but the figure was tall, with broad shoulders and straightened legs; human then. Tali moved forward, and Amys fell in beside her, following her lead. They reached a low retaining wall, meant to separate the inner courtyard from the outer, and stood behind it.

"That's close enough!" yelled Amys over their cover, and the figure stopped, raising his hands slightly. He was unarmed.

"Saw you from across the way, figured I'd come see if we can help each other out," the figure called to them, pointing back over his shoulder with a thumb. The voice sounded vaguely familiar to Tali, almost like…no. She shook her head, humans all sounded alike. Her brain tried to tell her she knew that wasn't true, but she shooed the thought away; she needed to focus. Taking their silence for an invitation to explain, the figure continued, "Are you two here looking for Veetor? Or…are you maybe on your Pilgrimage?" Tali started, and she could see Amys follow suit beside her. The two women looked to each other, eyes wide.

Tali's mind was racing. Humans didn't **know** about the Pilgrimage, the only humans she'd ever spoken to about it were Anderson, Udina, and those on the Normandy, and even then only after she'd befriended them. Amys broke the tense silence, and though she spoke harshly, hesitation entered her voice.

"H-How do you know about the Pilgrimage, human? Or Veetor?" Through the snow, Tali could see the man's hands drop a bit, his head tilt downward ever so slightly.

"I traveled with a quarian who was on her Pilgrimage. I helped her finish it. At least, I hope I did; I never really found out. As for Veetor, I've got omni-tool data saying he was staying here helping the colonists; when I saw you two with guns drawn checking pre-fabs I kind of put two and two together." His voice continued to tug at Tali's memory, and she continued to repress it, but he kept speaking, and his story… Tali finally spoke over the soft wind, her voice carrying out to meet his ears. She didn't know it, wouldn't know it until weeks later, but as soon as he heard it, his eyes shot wide open.

"This quarian you travelled with, what was her name?"

* * *

John answered the quarians' questions quickly and accurately. After all, the one speaking with him sounded quite serious, despite the slight hint of hesitation in her voice. He couldn't fault her, and to be perfectly honest, he admired her bravery. Still, better safe than sorry, and so he explained his desire to work together, and his sources of information, to them. A soft silence had fallen again between them, and just as John was beginning to wonder if his idea had been in the least bit wise, he heard a voice reach across the expanse towards him.

" _This quarian you travelled with, what was her name?"_

It was…no…it couldn't be. Could his luck **really** be **that** good? He went over the facts of the day in his head: He had been **resurrected** after being **spaced** and **re-entering the atmosphere** of a **planet**. Not only that, but it had been his second-worst enemies who did it, claiming to be handing him an olive branch, and they'd sent him to a seemingly random human colony where he just so happened to find **her**? Shaking his head in disbelief, wondering if he was still somehow dreaming, he allowed the hesitation in his mind to show itself fully as he spoke.

"T-Tali…?"

* * *

The name jolted her to alertness, and Amys whipped her head around to look at her. Her eyes were about as wide as Tali figured her own were, and she looked back to the figure across the way. No, couldn't be. It was some fool who had read an extranet article about her actions at the Citadel. He just used this story on any quarian he met. _But that doesn't explain his knowledge of the Pilgrimage_ …her mind pressed softly into her thoughts. Her confusion angered her, and she yelled back harshly.

"Don't play games with us, you _bosh'tet_!" His voice called softly back, not anger, not defensiveness, not indignation, but pure confusion lacing it.

"I-I'm not. I'm not playing a game…I just…Tali, is that you?" The figure started to take a step forward, and Amys re-trained her pistol on him. His voice…the concern, it…her mind reeled. This was impossible. He was dead.

_Did they ever find a body?_ her mind asked. _Well, no, but…how could he survive? And why didn't he try to contact me?_ She raged in indignation in her head, partly angry about his hypothetical abandoning of her, and partly about the fact that she was even entertaining this possibility. Her brain responded with a single question that jarred her. _Why don't you ask him?_

"Stop! Take another step and I unload, I mean it!" Amys yelled at the man. He stopped walking, reaching his hands out to her reassuringly.

"I'm sure you do, and I don't mean to alarm you. But…" he looked furtively toward her, and though she couldn't see his face, she knew he would be squinting through his visor to try and make her out. "Tali it's me. It's Shepard." Her knees shook, her pulse raced, and her mind flailed to find **any** logical argument that her own brain couldn't counter. Finding none, she steeled herself, stepping forward ever so slightly to challenge him.

"Prove it." He stood silent for a moment, then seemed to snap to life, remembering something he thought he could use.

"So it **is** you? Ah…what about the geth data we recovered, Tali? Did it help you complete your Pilgrimage?" Her heart stopped, but the rational side of her brain refused to give in. No, she'd spent two years realizing that he would never be back. He was **dead**.

"The Alliance could have found out about that if they wanted to!" She retaliated, stepping forward again as she pointed accusingly at him. It was a hollow argument, but it was all she had, and she threw it in his face with ferocity, her waking mind trying fervently to deny what it was seeing. He took a step forward as well, as if emboldened by her acknowledgment of the situation. He stayed quiet for a long moment, and his gaze moved past her to Amys, as if appraising the other woman. Tali tilted her head in confusion; what could he possibly be nervous to say in front of her? As if in answer to her thoughts, the man looked her in the visor and spoke softly.

"Were…were you **really** asleep that night I carried you to the sleeper pod, Tali?"

In a single instant, Tali'Zorah vas Neema's entire universe crumbled.

It was as if, for a brief moment, time stood still, and she stepped outside herself, observing her own body. She had tried so hard to deny it, tried so hard to prove to herself that it **wasn't** him, so why had she been weeping softly the whole time? She had been so sure she was being fooled, but her body now stood a full meter closer to the man than Amys'. Her body had known now, just as it had known then, that it was him. It was in his voice, in his body language, and her body had expressed its desire to stand ever so much closer to him, this presence it had not felt in two years' time. Yes, she finally allowed herself to concede, this was Shepard. She didn't know how…she didn't know… **anything** right now…but this was definitely him. When she spoke, her throat was tight, the voice emitting from it choked and strained.

"John?" The man reached up to remove his helmet, a process which seemed to Tali to take years to complete. He dropped it unceremoniously to the ground and met her eyes again. The snow fell gently around them, and his breath misted in the air just as it had on Noveria, but inside her helmet, her tears were still hot and wet as they streamed down her cheeks.

Her mind was in shock. Her body had already thrown away her shotgun, and was running towards him, faster than she ever had in her life.

* * *

"John?" The smile that the single word brought to his face was immeasurable, and he reached up, taking his helmet off in what he would recall later was record speed. Dropping it to the ground, he looked at her through the falling snow, still unable to make out much detail. But he knew, he knew it was her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she threw her shotgun aside and charged at him. Bracing himself, he caught her full-speed as she crashed into him, and her momentum threatened to knock them both off-balance. Leaning back forward to settle them both back on the ground, he felt her body wracked in sobs and squeezed her to his chest, closing his eyes tightly and searing this moment into his personal memory. After the longest moment of his life, she pulled away gently, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her hand reached up to trace the scars along his face. Wincing at her examination, he refused to let go of her gaze. Her words were whispers.

"John…what happened to you? You…I watched you die." Her body shook again, and he took her hand in his own before speaking.

"I…I did, Tali. I died in the attack on the Normandy, but…" he trailed off, and she tilted her head in confusion. "Cerberus…rebuilt me." She recoiled, stepping back not far enough to leave his hands' grasp, but enough to put space between the two of them. When she spoke, her voice dripped with trepidation and fear.

"You're… **with** Cerberus now?" His eyes shot wide, and he shook his head emphatically, holding her gaze to reassure her.

"No, Tali. I would never work for Cerberus, you know all the sick experiments we shut down together. They…I don't know, Tali. I only woke up about ten hours ago, and I've been being shot at ever since. Haven't really had time to sit down and take stock of the situation." He gripped her shoulders in a gentle yet firm squeeze. "All I know is, Cerberus rebuilt me, but I refuse to work for them. I told the Illusive Man that myself. I agreed to look into this missing human colony with his agents, and then I'm done." Her body, which had tensed at his first mention of Cerberus, only now relaxed, and he smiled as he felt the tension leave her muscles. Taking a long look at her for the first time since their contact, he noticed her new suit, complete with its long purple cloth that wound its way about her.

"So, a new suit means…you **did** finish your Pilgrimage?" She tilted her head in a smile, unconsciously running the fingers of one of her hands along the purple cloth before nodding.

"Yes, and I was given my adult suit, my colored _realk_ , and my new ship name, 'vas Neema'." He beamed down at her, pride evident in his face, and she blushed behind her visor. "Garrus brought me back after…well after the service. I've tried to keep in touch with him but…it's been hard without…" she trailed off and he placed a hand on her shoulder. She raised her head to look him in the eyes, and he spoke quietly.

"Tali, when this mission is over, you and I will have a long talk. There are…things I didn't get to say, things I should have said, and I'm not leaving this planet until you hear them." She nodded, and spoke quietly as well.

"That would be…nice. I feel the same way. You know, about… things needing to be said. Um…but…what's wrong with right now, John?" She hesitated asking the question, and he smiled reassuringly down at her.

"Well I'm not a quarian expert, but I'd think you'd want to have a conversation like that in privacy…" She visibly started, spinning around to look at the other woman as she exclaimed.

" _Keelah,_ Amys! I'm sorry, I completely forgot you were there!" John could hear a laugh escape the other woman as she lowered her weapon and stepped forward to join them. John smiled as she spoke; it was clear she was a friend to Tali, and that meant John was a friend to her.

"It's ah…it's alright, I just figured I'd hang back and let you be…diplomatic." Tali raised a hand to cover her visor in embarrassment, and the other woman laughed softly before turning back to him and extending her hand. "Commander John Shepard then, I take it?" He nodded and shook her hand as she continued. "Had to be, I haven't seen Tali that happy once in the many months I've known her." John frowned as he turned his gaze back to Tali and spoke.

"Tali…I'm sorry." She pulled her hand away, and it joined her other in resting on her hips as she looked up to him.

"Did you just **apologize** to me for **dying**?" An awkward silence hung between them, and she chuckled as she continued. "Same old Shepard, everything is **your** fault, never anyone else's. All of this… _Keelah_ , Shepard, this is insane…" John nodded to her, clearly wanting to say more. Before she could continue, her comm unit inside her helmet sprang to life.

" _Tali'Zorah! We have contacts! The mechs are going down fast but there are humans here, and they're with Cerberus!"_

"Oh _Keelah_ ," Amys began, and John looked at the pair of them with confusion. Tali spoke up.

"We have to get to the research center **now** , Shepard. Prazza and the rest of the marines just discovered your 'friends'." Shepard turned on his heel and sprinted, Amys and Tali keeping up behind him. As they tore through the abandoned colony, Tali couldn't help but let a small smile creep across her face. The longer they ran, the greater the smile grew. Shepard was back, and for the briefest amount of time, she was on his team. They would have to part ways after they found Veetor, she would have to find her way back to him after this mission, but for now none of that mattered. In her head, only one thought kept blaring, loud enough to drown out the sorrow of the past two years.

**John** was **back**.


	4. Healing Wounds

***Author's Note***  
This is the second half of Freedom's Progress, and the end to my  
complete deviation from ME2 canon so far (=P). Like I said before,  
these two chapters really set the tone for the first portion of the  
piece, so I'm interested to hear everyone's thoughts. Sorry for the  
short delay, I've been hammered with school lately but back on track  
now I think, so we should be good.

Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews and adds, I had like 15 reviews on  
this before the Prologue even went up, you guys are amazing!

* * *

**Healing Wounds**

The trio ran back towards the way Shepard had come, and despite the physiological advantage quarians had in their legs, Shepard easily kept the lead over the two women, the cybernetics within his muscles pumping while adrenaline shot through his veins. As they passed the crossroads and began down the path Miranda and Jacob had taken, a group of LOKI and FENRIS mechs spotted and advanced on them. Shepard whipped his assault rifle from his back and charged forward. Tali and Amys hung back to lay suppressing fire, and he rolled into cover, coming up over the top with his rifle raised. Five mechs stood, facing the trio with weapons firing, and Shepard began mowing them down with well-placed fire. His comm link came to life, Miranda's voice emanating from it.

" _Shepard! We've got contacts! Quarians; they're firing on the mechs right now, but they closing in on our position as well_." His eyes narrowed, and he spoke more harshly than normal while firing at the mechs.

"Do **not** engage them, Miranda! Once the mechs are down, fall back to the crossroads, I'm on my way to you, but I've got a small pack in the way."

" _Shepard they're probably after the quarian who was staying here with the other humans!_ " He cursed himself for giving her a copy of his datamined personnel log as she continued, " _If they get to him first, they'll extract him, and we'll never find out what happened here."_ Shepard rolled out of cover, taking down the last two mechs and running forward as he spoke.

"That won't happen, Miranda, I can assure you. I'm with their commanding officer right now." He let a bit of pride tinge his words as he implicitly mentioned Tali, and for a moment he could swear he heard the woman on the other end of the comm link growling with disapproval. "I mean it, Miranda! Stand down once the mechs are taken out!" A begrudging _"Yes, Commander_ " was her reply, and the link cut off as Tali and Amys rushed past him. Laughing softly, he stood from cover and easily caught up to her, teasing through heavy breaths as he ran.

"Trying to one-up your old Commander, Miss Zorah?" He heard laughter ring out from her vocal emitter, and almost tripped over his own feet as the sound brought back months of memories in a single moment. Recovering, he kept stride, but slackened a bit, letter her have a lead. She noticed immediately and scoffed at him.

"Psh, I don't **need** your pity victory, Shepard. I can beat you in a footrace any day." As if acting on the challenge, she sprinted forward, and he ran as fast as he could to catch up. Behind them he could hear Amys calling ahead.

" _Like five-year olds, the_ _ **both**_ _of you!"_ He allowed a smile to part his lips, and he ran faster to catch her. He'd been chasing her in his dreams for two years, no reason to let her get away now.

* * *

Tali's joy at being in the lead was short-lived, as her comm link came to life, Prazza on the other end.

" _Tali! The mechs are all but cleaned up, though they keep reinforcing. What's more, there are Cerberus operatives here. We're going to take them out once the mechs are thinned!_ " Her heart stopped.

"No, Prazza! Fall back and **hold** **position** until the three of us get there; we're not here to fight them. I have their commanding officer with me, we've been taking out the mechs. We need to work together to find Veetor; more mechs are coming online every minute." His voice was laden with shock as he replied.

" _You've been working with_ _ **Cerberus**_ _?"_

"No, Prazza, I've been working with Shepard. He's in charge of this mission and I will **not** allow you to fire on his team. I'm in charge of this mission, damn it and I said **stand down**!" There was a long pause before he replied, and when he did his voice dripped with venom.

" _No, Tali'Zorah. You_ _ **were**_ _in charge of this mission. I won't let you endanger the lives of my team._ Keelah _, dealing with Cerberus? I shudder to think what your father will say when he reads the mission reports."_

"Prazza'Mal, as your superior officer, I **order** you to stand down! These are extraordinary circumstances and you are going to have to **trust** my judgment. If you won't stand down, I **will** report your insubordination to the Admiralty Board." He laughed in response.

" _Right, Tali. Good luck reporting that to them._ _ **My**_ _team and I are going to put down these Cerberus dogs, and then we're finding Veetor and taking him back to the Flotilla. You can get a ride home from your new_ _ **friends**_ _. I'll be taking bets on how close your ship gets before being destroyed."_

"Prazza, you _bosh'tet!_ " Tali swore into her comm link, but knew he had already severed the connection. She slackened her pace to let Shepard catch up, and he chuckled as he matched her stride.

" **Now** who's letting who win?" The grin on his face was immediately replaced by cold fury when he saw the pained look she gave him. "What's happened?"

"Prazza and his team have mutinied. They're going to kill the Cerberus team and then take Veetor, leaving Amys and I stuck here while he reports whatever story he can spin to the Admiralty Board." Her voice held pain as she spoke, and Shepard glared ahead, tapping his comm link.

"Miranda, the quarians in that courtyard have gone rogue and are no longer under control. If they attack…" he paused, swallowing softly. Tali's constant talk of life aboard the fleet had made him hesitant to **ever** issue the order to kill a quarian, and luckily so far he had never had to. But this…he wouldn't let them do this to her. "If they attack, fire at will." There was a slight pause, and her voice replied, breathless.

" _Well that's a bit late, Commander. We'd love to tear them apart, but an YMIR mech has just come online, and seems to be doing the work for us."_ Shepard slowed his pace, lost in thought a moment, and Tali moved past him, almost reaching the corner that would lead into the research wing of the colony.

"What the hell is an YMIR mech?" he heard soft laughter in her voice as she replied coldly.

" _Come have a look, just be careful coming around that corner."_ He looked up sharply. She was almost there. Sprinting forward, he pushed his cybernetics and his muscles to their brink. He **had** to catch her; he was **not** going to lose her again, not this soon. He yelled as he ran, but by the time she'd heard the words it was too late.

* * *

Tali sprinted towards the corner, fury having welled fully inside her. She **had** to catch Prazza before he could make off with Veetor. As she ran, she found she felt the saddest for Amys. If Prazza managed to succeed with his plan, if her people exiled her, the thought brought chills, at least…at least she had Shepard back. But Amys would be held accountable as well, and likely exiled with her. Would Shepard take them both? She would follow him anywhere, and even after two years without him, her heart warmed at just the sight of him. Yes, she thought to herself, recounting the past two years and Shala's words, she was definitely bonding with Shepard. The realization itself made her blush furiously under her helmet, and as she rounded the corner she heard him yell her name. Still she pushed onward; whatever it was, he could tell her when he joined her in cover.

Rounding the corner, her heart sank. Not twenty yards away, facing her direction, was a fully operational YMIR mech. Upon seeing her, the spinning barrel of the chain gun on its arm began to wind up with an audible whine, and she tried to run for cover, but knew it would be too late. As the first bullets came towards her, she reflexively held her hand up to her visor. A sharp pain ripped into her exposed palm, yet before she could feel another stab, she felt a tremendous force barrel into her side, sending her flying. She felt her body rotate in the air and slam to the ground with an uncomfortable _thud_. Laying on her side, she opened her eyes, and saw John's staring right back into hers. They practically bled concern as he unfolded her from his tackling grip and began to check her over.

"Are…are you ok, Tali? Is everything alright?" Even with the pain in her hand, she smiled behind her visor. The things he did to keep her safe…

"Yes, Shepard, I'm fi-AH!" she yelled as he softly took her hand and examined the wound. Peeking his head up over the cover to spot where the mech was, he nodded, seemingly satisfied, and began unbuckling his chestpiece. "Wh-what are you doing? This is a live combat zone!" He laughed softly as he exposed his undershirt. Gripping it and pulling hard, he ripped a long strand of cloth from the garment. For a second his toned abdomen was exposed, and Tali felt her cheeks flush again before she could politely look away. After hearing the sealing of his armor again, she looked back, and he held the cloth strip out to her.

"I know it's not sterile, but I've got to stop the bleeding until we can get you to a medical facility." She nodded in understanding, holding her hand out to him. He wrapped the makeshift bandage around her hand methodically, carefully, and she smiled at his tenderness. As he made the knot, he peeked up over cover once again and muttered. "Shit…" Her eyes followed his, and she had barely finished asking " _What?"_ when a sharp pain shook her hand. Hissing, she looked back down to see a well-tightened knot holding the bandage in place.

"Sorry," he began, "it always hurt less for me if I was distracted." She shoved him playfully with her good hand, whispering a hushed _"Bosh'tet…"_ before they both slid back into cover. Tali triggered her omni-tool and checked her team's vitals. Of the team of six Prazza had brought, only two remained plus himself. Her heart clenched in her chest. This was her fault. She was losing these people because of an inability to control Prazza. As if reading her thoughts, or perhaps just her omni-tool, Shepard placed a hand on her shoulder. "This isn't your fault, Tali. You can't blame yourself for one man's stupidity." She nodded solemnly to him, and in that brief moment wanted nothing more than to just rest her head on his shoulder, but she restrained herself, and he smiled at her. She knew this smile well. This was the 'I'm about to do something **very** unsafe, and come out alive' smile. She sighed before speaking.

"Well, get on with it, then." He laughed as he vaulted over their cover, firing at the mech to gain its attention. Staying in cover, nursing her hand, she looked behind her and saw Amys. She fired her pistol into the heavy mech from afar, but more often than not she was looking to Tali. As soon as Shepard had left her voice came through Tali's helmet on their private channel.

"Keelah _, Tali…"_ she whispered. Tali nodded slowly before responding.

"I know…at least I'm alright. I…didn't think I was going to make it out of that one." She heard… _laughter?..._ coming from the other woman.

" _I wasn't talking about_ _ **you**_ _, Tali. I was talking about_ _ **him**_ _._ Keelah _he just_ _ **leaped**_ _into you. I saw the two of you fall; he took at least four rounds in the back when he turned you out of its line of fire. And yet…there he is, on his feet, charging back into it from the looks of things. Tali…what_ _ **is**_ _he?"_ She smiled behind her visor, looking down at the carefully-placed bandage he had wrapped around her hand.

"He's incredible."

* * *

John Shepard was charging full on towards a mech about three times bigger than he was in any given dimension, knowing nothing about its defenses and next to nothing about the assault rifle he wielded. Any military trainer would say that was suicide. For John…well if he had to be completely honest with himself, he thought it was a damn fine end to the day. His mood was soured, however, by the many quarian bodies he'd had to avoid as he closed the distance. That **idiot** was getting his team killed, and planned to pin it on Tali.

_If the mech doesn't kill him, I may just do it myself._

Killing the last quarian in Prazza's squad, the mech turned to Shepard, who slid into cover and tapped his comm link again.

"Miranda? Jacob? Could use a little help here."

" _We're on it, Shepard!"_ Jacob's voice came through and in an instant an overload disabled the mech's shields. Shepard swung out to fire into the machine, but his bullets barely made a mark. He was going to need a weaker target point. _Or a bigger gun,_ he thought with a smile.

"Jacob! Get the mech's attention, I need its back to me!" As if in immediate response, a series of concussive blasts echoed across the storage yard, slamming into each of the mech's shoulders and then into its chest. The mech turned and began to lumber toward its new primary target, and Shepard saw his opportunity. Sprinting from cover, he ran straight up to the back of the mech and, grabbing its collar area with one hand, vaulted onto its back. Shepard yelled into the wide-range comm, "Good! Now everyone down!" His team dropped into cover, and seeing no other available target, the mech lifted the chain gun on its arm to Shepard over its shoulder, the barrel spinning up slowly. Though the rotating barrel stared him right in the face, he smiled and waited. At the last second, he lunged forward, grasping the barrel with both hands and pressing down as hard as his cybernetics would allow. The gun roared to life.

And the mech toppled as it blew its own head into shrapnel. Shepard rolled off of the body, standing and dusting his hands before walking back towards the Cerberus operatives.

"Nice play, Jacob," the man beamed at the compliment, but quickly reined it in in Miranda's presence.

"Not a problem, Shepard." Moving past them, he found Tali in cover and helped her to her feet. As she stood in front of him he held her hand a little longer than was necessary, and gave it a small squeeze before letting go. She tilted her head slightly, and walked along with him, pulling up her team roster.

"Oh, _Keelah_ …" Shepard whipped his head to look at the roster, and though he couldn't read Khelish, he knew who the only name left alive had to be. "There!" she yelled, and as Shepard followed her finger he could see Prazza sprinting toward the main tech building in the back. The five of them ran to catch him and he began to hack the door as soon as he got to it. Shepard was first to get to Prazza, and he trained his rifle on the quarian, whose hands immediately stopped their hacking attempt. His voice was bile, but he refused to look at Shepard, instead staring straight into the door's glowing red access panel.

"Going to shoot me, Cerberus?" Shepard shook his head slowly.

"Not unless you do something even dumber than you have already. If you'd taken the time to listen you'd know we're here to find out what happened to this colony, not abduct Veetor. I had hoped we could work together, seeing as he's the only one left alive to recount the story." A sharp laugh escaped Prazza as Shepard felt saw Tali step up beside him out of the corner of his eye. Her shotgun was collapsed at her back, but her narrowed eyes were a weapon Shepard would not have wanted to stare down the barrel of for all the credits in the galaxy. Prazza, of course, had no such compunction.

"And here she is at last, the worst traitor her people have ever known. I should have known there was something _off_ about this mission. Admiral Gerrel just puts you in charge of my unit without so much as a question to me, and all of a sudden Cerberus just happens to be here too. How long have you been betraying your people, Tali? Was it Cerberus who handed you that geth data everyone is so proud of you for?" Shepard bristled, but stayed quiet, and Tali spoke up quickly.

" **Shepard** helped me get that data Prazza. He's not with Cerberus, and I have never betrayed my people. I **wish** I could say the same for you, but the bodies lying among the storage containers back there beg to differ. You tried to take command from me, refused to listen to orders, and now you're all that's left. Because of **you** , your whole team is dead." Prazza's head twitched slightly, and Shepard tensed his muscles. He hadn't had much experience with quarians, but he knew the signs of a soldier about to snap.

"How dare you speak about **my** team as if you cared! **Your** betrayal killed them, their blood is on **your** hands you _det kazuat_!" In a flash his pistol was in his hands and aimed at Tali's head. Shepard lunged to the left, dropping his rifle as he did. His shoulder rammed into Tali and sent her hurtling into the metal siding of the main tech building, and Shepard felt a sharp sting as the round slammed into the armor of his right shoulder. Behind him, gunfire sounded, and he watched as Prazza's body reeled with the multiple impacts. Turning behind him, he saw Miranda, Jacob…and Amys?...opening fire with their weapons. After a few brief seconds, Prazza's body fell lifeless, and Shepard reached over to Tali, who sat slumped against the building, rubbing her shoulder with her uninjured hand

"Tali are you alright?" He knew he had taken the shot, his shoulder was raging at him in pain, but he gave her the once over anyway, just making sure.

"Yes, Shepard, I'm fine. You've been alive for eleven hours now and you've saved my life twice already, been shot no less than five times, and killed a mech you knew absolutely nothing about…" she trailed off and he smiled down into her visor as he shrugged.

"Occupational hazards," she shook her head softly as he helped her to her feet, seeing him wince as he lifted her.

"You need to look at that shoulder, Shepard." He laughed as he spoke.

"I'm bruised, you're bleeding. I think once we get in here we'll need to find a med bay, but you're getting seen to first." She couldn't find an argument, and so turned to hack the door. She reached out her hands, wincing herself at the use of her injured one, and Shepard put a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her back. "Amys, if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh, no not at all," the other quarian said, stowing her pistol and setting to work on the door. As they waited, Tali looked up at Shepard…at John. He returned her gaze, smiling softly but with a definite look of concern as well. Unconsciously, she took a small step closer to him as she spoke.

"I'm fine, really. I don't think it hit any nerves, I can still move my fingers, it just hurts to."

"Yea, sounds like the standard side-effects of a gunshot wound," Shepard said, and she couldn't resist the smile on her face. To counter it, she slapped his chest with her uninjured hand.

" _Bosh'tet."_

The door swung open as Amys finished, leading to a small room full of terminals, each showing a different view of the colony. Seated in the chair in front of them was a male quarian, typing away frantically at the haptic interface and mumbling gibberish to himself. Shepard stepped in ahead of them.

"Veetor?"

" _No, no Veetor…not here…"_

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the group of five stood just inside the door to the tech building, checking their weapons and armor. Shepard spoke quickly, with authority, and continued to glance at Tali's hand as he did.

"So we're all understood? Miranda and Jacob, you're going back to the shuttle, get it ready and bring it over here to the storage yard. Amys you'll take Veetor, go prep your shuttle and bring it over as well. Tali and I will head into the medical facility here," he indicated on his map the medical facility Veetor's cameras had shown. Among other things. His mind was still processing the existence of the Collectors, and their abduction of human colonists, but he shook his head softly and continued. "Once we're all patched up, we'll both evac together, and Tali will send us Veetor's omni-tool data, as well as the pieced-together surveillance footage." Amys nodded in agreement, Jacob slightly less so, and Miranda simply stood with her arms crossed.

"They betrayed us once already, Shepard. I know we hadn't officially established a working relationship, but Prazza and his team would have killed us all given half a chance." Shepard took a half-step forward, challenging the woman.

"Prazza was an idiot. He, and his team, paid for that idiocy already. I won't have you judging these two based on **his** actions, are we clear?" A short silence fell before she replied.

"Yes, Commander. We'll go get the shuttle." He nodded, and they turned to leave. Amys placed a hand on Veetor's back, leading him gently out of the building and towards their shuttle. He continued to ramble, but the words were mixed with slight sobbing, and Shepard watched after him as they walked away. For a moment he was lost in thought about what, if anything, he could do to help the quarian, but the soft presence of Tali's hand on his arm brought his attention back to her. Her eyes…he had dreamed of them for two years, and being able to see them again now made his heart warm. She spoke softly.

"Thank you, John." He raised an eyebrow, and she continued. "For letting Amys take Veetor. I…I didn't know how exactly that situation was going to be resolved." He turned to her fully, his voice low as he spoke.

"There is metal and tech where most of my organs used to be. There's a two-year discrepancy between what I think happened yesterday and what you do. But nothing," he took her uninjured hand in his and squeezed it, "has changed about who I am. Or what I want." She stepped closer to him before speaking. Her words were soft but…charged, hesitant yet somehow confident at the same time. He'd never heard her speak like this and it caught him unaware.

"And…what…exactly **do** you want, John?" Tension rose within his chest, and he wanted to say everything he'd been holding back for the past two years, what only felt like a week ago to him. But not here, not out in the open like this. He had to put her before himself, she was injured.

"Right now, to get you to that medical facility and fix up this hole you've managed to put in yourself despite all my heroics." She laughed, but her eyes held his, that…tenacity still there, lurking. They walked together across the storage yard, no words spoken but all the tension of the previous moment still there within his chest. They found the facility with no problem, sealed the doors, and began the decontamination sequence. Tali moved to stand beside the gurney in the middle of the room while John looked around for the supplies he'd need. Silently, he wished Chakwas were here. Finding the antiseptic, he turned to see her emptying one of her pockets, finding a small package of black adhesive and removing it once the decontamination sequence was complete. He stepped towards her, opening the bottle and dabbing a bit of it onto some gauze.

* * *

Tali's heart raced. Not because she was alone with John, although on any other day that would have been enough to do it. No, right now it was fear that gripped her chest. She had known from the second the bullet impacted her hand, from the second John had fashioned that makeshift bandage for her in the field. She'd have to take her glove off to assess the wound. The thought wouldn't normally frighten her but…with John here, the entire situation just became more…unnerving. He stood in front of her with a soft smile, and she looked up to him nervously. He must have read her eyes again, because his smile dropped instantly.

"Is something wrong?"

"Ah…no. I mean, besides the bullet wound in my hand, no, nothing. It's just um…to get to the wound, I have to…it would require…"

"You have to take your suit off." Her eyes widened.

" _Keelah_ , no! Not my entire suit anyway, just my glove, but still it's…" She took a deep breath before continuing. "No one has ever seen even my skin, John. It's…a bit frightening to think about." He nodded, understanding. He always understood.

"If you want, I can leave this stuff here and um…I guess turn my back or something?" She nodded quickly, and he smiled, placing the antiseptic on the gurney beside her. Nodding to her, he turned and walked back towards the door, staring intently at it as she began to unlatch the seal that held her glove in place. An oppressive silence hung in the air as she slid her glove down, glancing quickly at his turned back as she did, and cursing herself. _He wouldn't try to sneak a look at me,_ Keelah _, Tali'Zorah, do you think he has no sense of respect?_ Embarrassed, she opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"So, you never answered my question earlier."

"What question?"

"Were you really asleep that night I carried you to the sleeper pods?" Her hands stopped, and panic gripped her heart. In the fervor of everything that had happened in the last hour she'd forgotten all about the question that had proven he was who he claimed. Steeling herself, she decided this was it. She would tell him everything, and whether or not he felt the same after these two years past…no. He **had** to. Shaking her head, she replied softly.

"No…I wasn't asleep." Across the pre-fab she could see his head nod slowly.

"So…you heard what I said. About…"

"Not wanting me to go back. I did." His feet shuffled a bit, and she felt sadness wash over her. He was uncomfortable. This is exactly what she had feared would happen on that night if she'd revealed to him then that she wasn't asleep. It was happening now, why couldn't she have just lied to him? The thought sent daggers into her heart. _No, I will_ _ **never**_ _lie to him. That is one line I will not cross._ She tried speaking, but again he beat her to it.

"And my private storage account? You…were able to hack it I take it." She smiled softly before replying.

"Yes, it was an…unconventional password, but I figured it out eventually." He only nodded, and as she pulled her glove off, allowing the cool air to brush her skin, she trembled, continuing. "I…I heard your recording, too. I…" she trailed off, and his back straightened, but he continued to stare right into the door. His hands were clenched at the small of his back. He was angry.

_No…_ she realized slowly, _he's…_ _ **scared**_ _. But what could he be…_ her eyes widened behind her visor. _He's scared of what I think. He_ _ **does**_ _care but…he's afraid I don't._ She looked down to her ungloved hand. Her kinetic shields had absorbed most of the bullet's impact, but some momentum had carried it through. The wound was shallow, and the bullet came out with just a small wince from her, but the bleeding steadily continued to trickle out of the wound, winding across her soft gray skin and falling onto the sheet that lined the gurney. She looked back to John, his back still stiff, his hands clasped tight, allowing the silence to consume him. He needed a sign; he needed to be shown she trusted him, cared for him. And she would give him one. Activating the immuno-boosters in her suit, she took a deep breath and spoke.

"John…" her call to him was a whisper, and his head turned slightly at the sound before he straightened it again. "I…I need your help." He did turn then, albeit slowly, and to her surprise his eyes did not immediately seek out the uncovered flesh of her forearm and hand, but her own eyes. He held them as he crossed back over to her, and she could feel the intensity radiating out of them. After a long moment, he allowed himself to look down at her hand, softly taking it in his own gloved one as he applied the medicine to her wound. She winced, but he continued, and began to wrap it with the bandaging, cautiously and tenderly as he had before. When he finished, he continued to hold her hand, running his thumb along her exposed skin. The gesture sent shivers up her spine, and she smiled up at him. He continued to look at her arm as he spoke.

"I spent the last two years dreaming of you. Dreaming…and hoping…hoping it was real. Hoping they were really bringing me back so I could…have another chance at something I missed." His words were quiet, but Tali's heart jumped as if he'd screamed them in her face. Slowly, she stepped forward, placing her gloved hand on his elbow and capturing his gaze with her own once again. He turned his body to face hers, and she reached up with both hands, taking his helmet off. His hands went to her wrists to stop her, but she simply nodded slowly, and he let her go. The _hiss_ of decompression made her heart skip a beat, and she slowly reached toward his cheek with her injured hand. She touched his skin, felt its rough surface below her fingertip, and whispered to him.

" **I** spent the last two years wishing I had died beside you on the Normandy, wishing I had told you how I felt. I…I've started bonding with you, John. And I know you don't know what that means but…I…I care about you. I care about you so much..." He took her hand in his own, turned her palm down, and pulled it away from his face. Her resolve faltered. He…he **didn't** care. He didn't lo—her eyes widened as he pulled her hand back towards his face and kissed the back of it. His warm, soft lips pressed against her gray skin, and her mind overloaded with the sensation, her mouth hung open in shock even as she shivered from the contact.

"I should have told you everything, Tali. I died thinking that was my greatest regret. This morning I woke up and told myself that as soon as this mission was over, I was going to find you and tell you, for better or worse. I approached you and Amys unarmed because I thought if I could help a pair of quarians they may be able to tell me where you were. Everything I've done since waking up…has been to try to find my way back to you. I lost you without you knowing how I felt once already, I won't do it again." He stepped forward assertively, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she stepped forward to meet him, their bodies pressing together in a tight embrace. Tali shook with tears as he held her close, kissing the top of her helmet, and for the first time in two years, they were tears of happiness.

**John** was **back**. And he **loved** her.

* * *

After a long few minutes of him kissing her fingertips and her brushing his face with her hand, he convinced her to put her glove back on and patch it up with the adhesive. She had done so, and they stood before the door to the medical unit, looking at each other.

"You…you're sure?" John asked tentatively, sadness evident in his voice. In response, she raised a now-gloved hand to his cheek and spoke softly.

"I wish I weren't. But I have to report back. Amys and I have to tell the Admiralty Board what happened, and I've already received a transmission from Admiral Gerrel, before we even landed here actually. They're sending us on a mission right afterwards, completely classified. I had accepted because…well I didn't know about **you,** " he smiled at her words, and she continued, "but rest assured, John. As soon as that mission is over, I'll be putting in an absence request to join you." He nodded slowly, and spoke to her as he opened the door.

"Be careful, and see that you **do** get that absence approved. I don't want to be out here any longer than I have to without people I can trust at my back. Without **you** having my back." She nodded, and they walked together to their respective ships. Separating with a final glance, she read in his eyes everything he had spoken to her while he kissed her fingertips, every caring, loving word. She sent hers to him through her own look, and he smiled. Somehow, she knew he'd caught it. Boarding her shuttle, she sat down next to Veetor and watched John do the same, keeping her eyes on him until the shuttle door closed, and lifted off from the surface.

It physically pained her to be away from him, to willingly walk away, but she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, losing herself in the memories of just the past thirty minutes. They would have to do until she could get back to him; back where she belonged. Veetor's voice brought her out of her daydreaming, the first coherent sentence he had formed since they'd taken him from the tech building.

"C-Commander Shepard seems like a nice person." She smiled, but Amys replied, sending a smile of her own over to Tali.

"He certainly is, Veetor. You don't know the truth in the words you say."

* * *

The shuttle door closed in the Kodiak, and Shepard leaned back against the bulkhead with a heavy sigh of relief. His eyes closed, and he thought about the past thirty minutes. _Perfect_ , he thought, _Well, except for the gunshot wound and the blood. But other than that…perfect._ He had finally told her how he felt, and although she'd already known, he still smiled when he thought of her deceiving him while he carried her to her pod, it felt good to tell her. Now she knew for sure, now she knew that he cared for her. He just hoped she would find her way back soon. As the shuttle approached the relay, a sound of surprise from Miranda pulled him out of his own thoughts. Looking to her, he arched and eyebrow.

"Tali just sent us the data from Veetor's omni-tool." Shepard chuckled.

"Did you expect her not to?"

"Well…I just didn't know how much you trusted her, that's all." He smiled as he replied.

"I trust Tali with anything. She's never failed me, and she never will. Count on that." Miranda replied, her usual icy demeanor replaced by…curiosity?

"Understood, Commander…"


	5. Square One

***Author's Note***  
Sorry for the delay in getting these up, readers. I've discovered that I **am**  
in fact fighting **the flu** (the same "double dragon" attack from mid- _TDN_ that  
keeps rearing its ugly head) while I write these and try to keep up with my  
schoolwork. Not normally a challenge, but when I feel the primal desire to hibernate  
for 23/24 hours in the day, it quickly becomes one! =P I have tons of Emergen-C  
and tea on hand though, so I'll be continuing to get the chapters out as fast as  
I can. To be honest writing is keeping me from being completely overwhelmed by  
this crappy feeling, so expect the frequent updates to continue! =D

This one's about Shepard meeting the crew, with some very non-canon moments  
thrown in. I actually got quite a few PMs over the past couple days about people  
enjoying my off-rails story, and while I was originally hesitant to do so, people seem to  
enjoy it, so expect to see more such moments as I'm no longer afraid to 'go there' =P

Enjoy, and thanks for all the _*sneeze*_ reviews and adds! You all are **viral**! G-get it? _Viral_?  
Yea, I'll stop now. Enjoy the story. =D

* * *

**Square One**

" _The Collectors…"_ The Illusive Man looked thoughtfully into his glass, and even via holographic projection, Shepard could tell his report troubled the man. " _They were one of the possibilities I'd had, but should have been the top one. It makes sense, they come from beyond the Omega 4 relay, their tech is probably better than anything the galaxy has."_ Shepard spoke up.

"So you're telling me a reclusive alien race, enigmatic at best, suddenly decides to start harvesting humans _en masse_? The reports I've found say they take dozens at the most. They're after something else." The implied question of 'What aren't you telling me?' hung in the air between them. The Illusive Man stared at Shepard for awhile before answering.

" _Shepard, I'm in a difficult situation here,"_ Shepard's eyebrows arched, and he folded his arms across his chest as the man continued. " _I don't like to renege on deals I make, but the Collectors are a threat to every human, regardless of affiliation."_ Shepard hung his head, sharp bitter laughter emanating as he did so.

"You knew. You knew, or at least had a damn good feeling, that the Collectors were behind this. A threat to all of humanity, something so big I can't turn my back on. Well watch me. I'll notify the Alliance, the Council, and **we'll** handle it. I don't need your manipulation or your feigned interest in my well-being. You brought me back as a tool to use, and I'm not having it." Turning to leave, Shepard was halted by the man's voice just before he reached the perimeter of the holographic zone.

" _Shepard, wait. I told you the choice to stay was yours, and it is. But let me show you just one more thing. You don't even have to leave this station to see it. Take a look over it, evaluate it, and then tell me to my face you won't use it to help humanity in its hour of need, and we can part ways. No more tricks, no more games."_ His back to the man, Shepard's eyes slammed shut in frustration, his fists clenching at his sides. He sighed, a pained sound, and opened them.

"Fine. What is it?" A door opened, spilling white light into the darkened communication room. Shepard turned toward the light, the holographic relay fading out, the room turning back to its metal walls and floor, and walked towards it. The doorway took him into a sterile white hallway, and as he entered it, a figure came into view around the corner some fifteen yards ahead. _No…_ Shepard thought as he walked forward to meet the man. _Limping slightly, couldn't be…_ in response to his unvoiced question, the figure spoke up, bringing a smile to Shepard's face for the first time since he'd left Tali.

"Hey Commander…" hesitation hung thick on the man's words as he continued, "..just like old times, huh?" Shepard couldn't help himself, and he jogged the last few steps over to Joker, taking the man's outstretched hand in a gentle shake while clapping his free hand cautiously on his pilot's shoulder. A sharp laugh escaped him, and he replied.

"Joker…I can't believe it's you." The pilot laughed at him weakly as he spoke.

" **You** can't believe it's **me**? Shit, Shepard, I watched you get spaced. Then these guys showed me live video of them rebuilding you…Christ it's ridiculous. You…you **are** still you, right?" His face was troubled, and Shepard spoke quietly.

"Yea…of course it's still me, Joker? What's bothering you?" The other man only shook his head softly.

"You mean besides you coming back from the dead? I…" he looked away from Shepard as he spoke. "I couldn't **wait** to see you again, to fall in behind you and kick some more galactic ass, but…I have to…" drawing a deep breath, he spoke again with finality. "I fucking **killed** you, Shepard. If it weren't for my own stupidity, you wouldn't have…God I feel so stupid. I'm the reason you died and now here you are standing in front of me. Shit just… hit me or something." Shepard chuckled.

"You want me to hit you for saving the crew of the Normandy?"

"Don't say that shit…I didn't do anyth-" Shepard shoved Joker back into the wall he stood in front of. A small _crack_ resounded, and Joker grabbed his shoulder, eyes reaching up to find Shepard's. They were wide with fear, and Shepard glared at him as he stepped forward, putting his face inches from the pilot's.

"Do you think for a second that an organization like Cerberus would pay billions of credits and spend two years of research to bring back Liara? Kaidan? Do you think they'd have brought back Tali?" Joker swallowed hard.

"I…no. Probably not." Shepard nodded, eyes still holding Joker's gaze.

"Right. Probably not. Now think about how much fun I would be to deal with if you hadn't stayed at those controls, if you hadn't taken manual control and turned the escape pod bay away from the attack. If every non-Alliance crew member, and most of the Alliance ones at that, got blasted to pieces by that fucking ship." He paused to let the idea sink into Joker's head before speaking again. "I'm going to say this one time, Joker. And then we're going to move on, because I'm not having you thinking about it for the entirety of however long we're going to be working together again, alright? **You did the right thing.** You stayed at the helm and gave everyone in those pods a fighting chance. **You** saved the Normandy crew, Joker." The pilot's eyes locked with his own, and he nodded slowly, finally accepting Shepard's words.

"Alright…so why the fuck did you shove me like that?" Shepard laughed as he stepped away.

"Hey, you practically told me to. Plus you were whining. I hate whining." Joker laughed and the two of them walked down the hallway.

"You can be a real dick sometimes, Commander."

* * *

The SR-2 had been beautiful to behold, and in the end despite the numerous Cerberus bugs he knew were bound to be planted aboard, and the dozen or so Cerberus logos that disgraced her bulkheads, Shepard and Joker had decided to christen her with the Normandy's name. They stood before the airlock, Joker shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Shepard spoke up.

"My personnel logs show Lawson and Taylor already at their posts. Crew is all loaded and the ship is stocked. Looks like everything's taken care of…" Joker nodded absently. "Joker?" The pilot looked to him and groaned softly.

"Shepard there's something I've got to tell you about the ship, and you're really not gonna like it." Shepard tensed, holding the other man's gaze. Arching his eyebrows, his unspoken request sent, Joker continued, "Alright look…this ship has cancer." Shepard cocked his head to the side, unsure whether to be confused or amused. The airlock opened, and the two of them stepped onto the bridge. Before Joker could continue, a small blue orb sprang to life on the holographic pad to the left of the pilot's chair.

"Mr. Moreau is using harsh inference and metaphor disguised in humor to make you aware of my existence, Commander Shepard." Glancing at Joker, then back to the orb, Shepard spoke.

"And you are…?"

"I am EDI. That is a familiarized rendition of E.D.I., which stands for Enhanced Defense Intelligence. I operate the cyberdefense and cyberwarfare suites during engaged combat scenarios. I also monitor all on-board listening and surveillance equipment." Shepard nodded slowly before responding.

"So. You're an on-board Artificial Intelligence who not only has the ability to turn off life support on **any** ship we encounter, you **also** monitor all of the Illusive Man's bugs to spy on me? Did I get all that correct?" Joker swallowed hard, EDI continued calmly.

"That is an accurate assessment of my capabilities, Commander." Shepard nodded again.

"Right, then." His words were cold, and he whipped his pistol off of its magnetic clamp, extending it as he brought it forward, and put two quick rounds into the holographic pad. Metal and sparks flew away at his assault, and the blue orb disappeared, reappearing almost instantly on another pad on the right-hand side of the chair.

"Please refrain from causing internal damage to the Normandy's hardware, Commander. If I have offended, please refer all complaints to XO Lawson on Deck Three." Shepard's gun was aimed steadily at the pad EDI now emanated from, and after a brief moment he collapsed it, placing it back on the clamp and stalking away.

"Count on it."

Joker stood for a moment, shaken by the events. After a full minute had passed, he looked down the deck behind him, Shepard was gone. He looked at the holopad to the right of his seat, EDI was gone. Bringing up his omni-tool, he checked his camera feature, watching the scene unfold in miniature again above his wrist. Smiling gleefully, he compressed the video and sent it to Lia. He would contact her again tonight, and they would have a nice chat about his amazing Commander.

* * *

"So…you're a psychiatrist. On a Cerberus vessel?" The young woman who had identified herself as _Yeoman_ Kelly Chambers nodded emphatically.

"Yes, Commander. I monitor the crew's mental health." He snorted before replying bitterly as he walked away.

"You're on a **Cerberus** ship, Chambers. I think you've got your work cut out for you." He stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for Deck 3. She had not turned to face him as he left. Good. He didn't trust them, and they only followed his orders because they'd been ordered to by someone else. Maybe he'd change his personal terminal's background image to Tali. _That would turn some heads_ , he thought maliciously, and then with a bit of sorrow realized the only image he had of her was the time she'd tried to choke out Garrus. Laughing softly to himself, he stepped out of the elevator and remembered his reason for coming here. Looking around, he noted the medbay, and decided to buffer his meeting with Miranda by making sure the chief medical officer knew of Joker's condition. Stepping into the lab, he saw the woman sitting at her desk, her softly graying hair reminding him of…his eyes widened as the chair turned.

"Commander Shepard," Chakwas said softly as her chair finished rotating. "I watched the Normandy crumble with you on board." His mouth hung open, and her mouth twitched in the slightest smile as he regained his composure.

"Dr. Chakwas…I never pegged you for the Cerberus type." Her eyes hardened a bit as she replied.

"That is because I most certainly am **not** the Cerberus type, Commander. I'm here for you, and for Jeff. I've…seen what they did to you, **how** they did… _this_ ," she gestured to him. "It wasn't pretty, Commander. They assured me you are still, in fact, you, but I need to know for myself." She stood and walked over to him, standing directly in front of his face. His eyes took in her sharp blue ones, appraising him, analyzing. "Tell me, Commander. Do you remember the conversation you and I had after Virmire? And how you spoke to me?" His eyes lowered.

_He roars in agony as he slams his un-gloved fist into his personal locker over, and over, and over again. The pain is searing, the agony intense, but it doesn't hold a candle to the supernova of remorse in his chest. The crew can hear him, Kaidan across the room can see him, but he doesn't care. He's lost a soldier today, and not just any soldier; he's lost Williams. He can still remember her voice in his comm link, he can remember the pain of choosing Alenko. He suddenly wishes someone would call him Skipper. Just once, for the hell of it._

_He stops his assault on the locker just in time to hear the soft_ woosh _of Chakwas' door opening. The woman walks slowly out, standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. He glares at her, she stares at him with those_ _ **fucking**_ _appraising eyes. He snaps._

" _What?" He screams at her in ferocity, but she doesn't budge, doesn't flinch._

" _You'll have to do better than that if you're trying to scare me away, Commander." His rage creeps further up in his throat, and he crosses to her violently, slamming a fist whose knuckles are now slick with blood into the metal wall inches from her head._

" _Right, because you're so_ _ **fucking**_ _tough. You're so_ _ **fucking**_ _seasoned. When was the last time_ _ **you**_ _left a friend to die for you, huh? When was the last time you did_ _ **anything**_ _on the scale I do every goddamn day?" His words rip into her like blades, he aims to kill, to shatter her resolve, but the pencil-thin line of her lips remains, and his anger boils over. He turns his whole body to her, quivering with rage, and for an instant his gaze flickers past her shoulder. Tali stands by the elevator, her fingers intertwining in front of her waist. She subtly shifts her weight back and forth, she's nervous. He's only seen it a few times, but he knows from context that's what it means. How long has she been standing there? How long has he set this example of rage? Chakwas' head turns in the direction he's looking, and upon seeing the girl, she nods softly, almost knowingly, before turning back to him. The rage rushes out of him as quickly as it had come, leaving him hollow, breathless. He hangs his head in shame in front of Chakwas, stammering apologies and cradling his fist._

_Her hands are on his shoulders, ushering him into the medbay. The door slides shut behind him, and she guides his weary form to the nearest gurney. She takes his chin softly in one hand and tilts it upwards to look into her face as he sits. Her voice is silk, silk covering hard stone behind it._

" _I am your doctor, John Shepard. I have seen you at your most vulnerable, I have seen you in states most men would die in. You are a strong man; stronger than any I have ever seen. But no man is invincible, and no man wins every battle." He stares back into her eyes silently as she continues. "Saren has killed one of your crew. Chief Williams was not a colonist on a remote world, or an ExoGeni researcher, or a citizen on the Citadel. She was part of_ _ **your crew**_ _. He has taken a friend from you, John, and in forcing you to make the decision, he hopes to break you. But the John Shepard I know doesn't break. He_ _ **never**_ _breaks." His eyes, softened in pain until now, slowly harden. Commander Shepard is returning. He nods to her, standing as she coats his knuckles in medi-gel and wraps them in a bandage._

" _Thank you, Carol." Her hands start, he never uses her first name. She looks back up, and her fearless Commander has returned, ready to dismantle every geth by hand if it brings him Saren's head. She nods, and replies sternly._

" _You're welcome. And like I said before, I'm your doctor. So you had better think twice before raising your voice like that again to me, young man." He chuckles; though he'd never tell her, he secretly loves it when she plays the mother card. She truly is the mother he hasn't had in years, and it gives him familiarity, gives him peace._

" _Yes, mom." His words are whispers, but she hears them and smiles. Her work finished, she nods to him, and he walks to the door. He hears her clear her throat behind him, and he turns over his shoulder to her. Her words are hesitant, but hard, as if she's unsure how to say them, but knows they need to be said._

" _And John…you should go have a talk with Tali in Engineering." She pauses before continuing cautiously. "She…cares about your well-being. It would be a good idea to let her know you're alright." He nods slowly, leaving the med bay and heading straight for the elevator._

Slowly, his eyes returned from memory, refocusing on her face, on those same sharp blue eyes that had appraised him some two years ago. A smile came to his lips, and he stepped forward, embracing her in a soft hug, which she readily reciprocated.

"Yes, mom." He felt her grip tighten on him as he spoke the words, and after a moment he released her, and he could swear he saw tears in her eyes as she stepped away.

"Well," she began hesitantly, dabbing at the corners of her eyes gently. "good. I won't have any tantrums or voice-raising on **this** Normandy, either, understood John?" He laughed softly and looked around her lab with an appraising eye.

"Are you all set up here, doctor?" She nodded as she joined in his look about the room.

"Quite well set up, Commander. I'm not a fan of working with Cerberus, but I will hand it to them, the lab is impressive. Only thing missing are my private reserves." She laughed as she turned back to him, and he smiled, turning to leave. He called over his shoulder as the doors opened.

"Well we'll have to fix that. Can't have our ship's medic **sober** , now can we?"

* * *

"Commander, believe me, I fully understand your conce—" he didn't let her finish. Just like he hadn't let her finish her last four sentences either. What would it matter? It would be the same drivel.

"No, I don't believe you **do** , Miss Lawson, though I **firmly** believe you **think** you do. Fact of the matter is, there is an active AI on this ship, something I fought tooth and nail **against** for every second prior to my death. This is what the Illusive Man thinks will lure me into commanding this vessel? Placing me at the mercy of the very things I sought to wipe off the face of the galaxy?" Miranda stood, slamming her hands down on her desk.

"Commander! I can assure you EDI poses **no** threat to anyone aboard this ship. She has very advanced leashing protocols, and has **no** access to the main controls, life support, power systems, or **any** other suites other than cyberdefense, cyberwarfare, and inter-ship monitoring. Hell, Shepard, she can't even access **climate control** unless directly asked and given permission to!" His hands had clenched into fists, and he relaxed them.

"I want access to the coding for those leashing protocols, and I want them verified by someone I trust." She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow as she fired back.

"Right, Commander. And who exactly is that?" He shook his head, never breaking his gaze. Tapping his comm link, he began to speak as soon as the comm connected.

"Joker, it's Shepard. I'm going to have the leashing protocols on 'EDI' checked over, but I need a tech expert, someone I can trust. Tali's all I can think of, but I can't contact her for awhile yet. Do you know anyone?" There was a short silence before Joker spoke up.

" _Yea, actually Commander, I've got just the girl."_ He nodded.

"Good. My quarters, twenty minutes."

" _Should I bring chips and drinks?"_ Despite his quickly-souring mood, Shepard allowed himself a small smile as he responded.

"No thanks, Joker. Just your charming personality." He turned the comm link off and looked back to Miranda as he spoke. "Well that solves one issue. Now on to the next one. EDI told me herself she handles all the on-board surveillance bugs. I can't very well fault the Illusive Man for bugging his own ship, but I'm assuming based on these blueprints," he brought them up on his omni-tool, "that Deck One is my personal quarters?" Miranda nodded wordlessly, and he continued, nodding as well. "Good. Then tell me how many bugs are installed there." It wasn't a question, and she hesitated only a moment before replying.

"Six." He nodded again as he spoke.

"Then we'll have six fewer bugs before we leave this dock. The Illusive Man can bug every inch of Decks Two, Three, and Four, but I will not be spied upon in my private quarters, is that clear?" Her eyes were hard, and for a moment he thought she would put up a fight, but after a few seconds she nodded, stepping around the desk towards him.

"Understood, Commander. I'll come with you and remove them myself, if that's your only other concern with commanding this mission. To be perfectly honest with you the issue of surveillance devices in your quarters was one of the few things he and I disagreed on. If removing them will convince you to at least work alongside us, I'll do it." He nodded to her, extending a hand to motion her out the door.

Ten minutes later they stood on Deck One. Shepard had looked around it while Miranda had removed the bugs, and he was astounded by what he'd seen. One huge wall was a giant glowing fish tank, its light shining onto a bed far too large for just him, and he even had couches. Couch **es** , plural! He had sighed softly at the excess, constantly having to remind himself he wasn't on a military vessel anymore. His thoughts had been interrupted by Miranda calling to him that she'd finished, and when he walked over he saw a small pile of six electronic devices on his desk above the living area next to his terminal.

"Would you like me to dispose of them, Commander?" He shook his head slowly.

"No, that will be all Miranda. You can return to your office now. I'll contact you in thirty minutes with my answer for the Illusive Man." She nodded and left. As soon as he heard the elevator descending, he called out to the emptiness. "I'm assuming **you're** in here too?" A short pause hung in the air before the blue orb appeared on a holopad by the fish tank.

"If you are referring to me, Commander, then yes. I have a local terminal installed in this location on Deck One." He glared at the orb, gritting his teeth to remain cordial. Cordial, with the AI. The thought ground against his brain.

"I would…appreciate it…if you would no longer use that holopad. Please do not take a visual form on Deck One unless I explicitly request it." The blue orb disappeared immediately.

"Understood, Commander. I will make whatever concessions I can to help acclimate all crew to my presence." He nodded. At least it was…trying?

"Also, send a message to Deck Four, I need the Chief Engineering Officer to meet me here in three minutes."

"Message away, Commander. If you require further assistance, simply ask." Shepard took the seat by his terminal, and had begin to open his Inbox when he heard the elevator begin to ascend. Standing, he adopted a parade rest as the door opened. A man similar in height and build to Shepard, but with a full goatee stepped forward to meet him, extending an eager hand. Surprised at the man's tenacity, Shepard took it, shaking it firmly as the man spoke.

"Chief Engineer Ken Donnelly at your service, Commander, and I must say it's quite an honor to work with you, sir. Gabby and I served on the SSV Perugia in the Battle of the Citadel, and after you died I was very vocal in my support for you. We both knew the Alliance were ripping apart what you'd said like vultures." Shepard allowed a small smile to cross his lips as the man delivered his diatribe in an accent Shepard hadn't heard in a very long time.

"Gabby?"

"Ah, engineer Gabriella Daniels. Truth be told, Commander we're both of the same rank aboard the Normandy. We couldn't decide which of us was the 'Chief' engineer, so we flipped a credit chit." Shepard couldn't contain the laugh that rolled easily out of him, and he gestured over to the table.

"That's alright, I really just needed someone to take a look at these and tell me what they are." Ken shifted his gaze, walking briskly over to Shepard's desk. Examining each one, he nodded slowly as he spoke.

"These…are military-grade surveillance devices, Commander. Did you find all these yourself?" Shepard shook his head.

"I had some help, just wanted to make sure I wasn't being lied to." Ken nodded knowingly.

"Aye, I understand Commander. I'd be a bit unnerved too if someone put bugs in **my** quarters. Of course, they wouldn't see much but me talkin' in my sleep and the occasional bout of snoring." Another laugh escaped Shepard, he had a good feeling about Engineering. Clapping Ken on the shoulder, he spoke softly.

"Look, Ken, I've got a good feeling about you, but tell me honestly…why are you with Cerberus?" The man nodded, as if knowing his Commander would be asking everyone.

"I'm not surprised you'd ask me that, Commander. Especially with your history with them. Truth be told, Gabby and I don't know much about the organization, and we don't much care either. We're here because they told us they were bringing you back and offered us a chance to work on the most advanced ship in the galaxy. Those two things, plus a chance to rub it in the faces of the Alliance brass when we prove you were right, were all the motivation either of us needed." Shepard nodded at the honest answer, and released the man's shoulder.

"Good enough for me. Dismissed, Donnelly." The man snapped a salute and returned to the elevator. It opened to admit Joker, and the men exchanged familiar pleasantries as the pilot exited. The doors closed, and the elevator began to descend again as he reached the desk. Shepard shook his hand as he spoke.

"How's the shoulder?"

"Eh, it's fine. Chakwas put some medi-gel on it, told me I shouldn't have demanded you hit me, and shooed me out of her med bay." They shared a laugh, and Shepard nodded towards the elevator behind them.

"You know Donnelly?" Joker nodded.

"Yea, played cards with him a few times after the ah… _incident_. He's good company, he and Gabby both." Shepard arched his eyebrow.

"The _incident_?" Joker waved a hand.

"It was nothing, forget it, let's just ah…get to why I'm here." A grin split Shepard's face as he called out to the empty room.

"EDI, what _incident_ could Helmsman Moreau be referring to?" The synthesized voice began immediately, as if it were just another person who had been standing there listening the whole time.

"Two standard days ago, Helmsman Moreau was involved in an altercation with Crewman Tibbs. XO Lawson's report indicates the Crewman incited Helmsman Moreau with inflammatory and xenophobic statements, specifically towards the quarian race. After said verbal altercation, Helmsman Moreau reportedly accessed the mess storage facilities, procuring a metal tray which he subsequently used to render Crewman Tibbs unconscious via blunt force trauma. Helmsman Moreau suffered multiple stress fractures in both forearms. Crewman Tibbs was removed from active duty, and transferred to another Cerberus cell." Shepard's eyes had widened with every passing sentence, and Joker had actually looked away from the man.

"Well…that's…quite an _incident_. What did he say about quarians that made you lose it like that? I've never seen you snap." Joker turned to face his Commander, steel in his eyes.

"He insulted one. One very specific one." At Shepard's questioning glance, he continued. "You'll see in a minute, do you have the AI protocol code?" Shepard nodded, opening his omni-tool and transferring the data to Joker's. The pilot took a deep breath as he enabled his omni-tool's comm system. He turned to Shepard as the pair waited and spoke cautiously.

"Just…try not to say anything that makes me look dumb, okay?" Shepard laughed softly as the comm continued to scan for a recipient.

"Joker, you do that well enough yourself." The other man shot him a mock glare, and before Shepard could respond, the shoulders and head of a female quarian appeared over Joker's wrist. She spoke as soon as the comm connected.

" _Jeff!_ Keelah, _I'm glad you called. I've been worried about you,_ nehya _. Work has be—"_ a sharp gasp came from her as she noticed he wasn't alone. " _Is…is that Commander Shepard?"_ John laughed softly as he replied.

"Yes, ma'am. Commander John Shepard at your service. Though I was hoping right now you might be able to help us out. I assume _Jeff_ has told you about our ah…synthetic problem?" The figure nodded emphatically.

" _Yes, Commander. He's made me very aware of the situation. In case it needs to be said, I wholeheartedly disapprove."_ Shepard laughed again.

"Doesn't need to be said, Miss…"

" _Oh_ Keelah _, I'm sorry. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay."_ John nodded.

"Still on your Pilgrimage then? How is that going so far?"

" _Well, it was going pretty horribly to be honest, until I met Jeff. He's been such a great help to me. I was worried to see him go work with Cerberus, but he has me well taken care of in his absence. I've got our apartment in the Wards, and Councilor Anderson has given me steady tech work at the Embassies. I'm well on track to being able to bring a ship back to my people."_ Pride welled in her voice, and Shepard looked over to see Joker's mouth twisted in a proud smile as well.

"Sounds like Jeff has been quite the friend to you…" he trailed off, allowing her to fill in the details.

" _He…he has been."_ Joker laughed quietly before speaking.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I think Shepard is trying to mess with me. He's pretty thick-headed, but he's not stupid. Yes, Lia and I are together, Shepard. That's…what the _incident_ was about."

" _Incident? What incident?"_ Panic dripped off of her few words, and Joker covered his face with a hand.

"I'll…we'll talk about it later, alright? I promise. But right now Shepard and I need your help, honey. We've been given the coding for the AI's leashing protocols. Shepard told Cerberus he wants to run the code by someone he trusts before he agrees to work with them." Shepard stepped in.

"And that's you, Lia. I'm having Joker transmit the code to you now. Do you think you can have it analyzed in about thirty minutes?" The figure nodded.

" _If it will help the two of you, I'll have it done in fifteen. I'll call you back when I'm done,_ nehya." Joker smiled, and the comm cut out. A long silence bridged the gap between them, and Joker spoke first.

"So…now you know. Lia was…I met her on Elysium, right after my 'debriefing' with Alliance brass. They kept trying to get me to talk shit about you, and I wouldn't. They made me go through it all, Eden Prime to Ilos, over and over again…but no one really listened." He turned to look Shepard in the eye. "Since the day you died, she's the only person who's listened, who's believed me. She makes me feel amazing, Shepard. Truly amazing." Shepard smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Jeff, I think you and I have more in common than either of us know." His pilot smiled wryly at him and shoved his hand off his shoulder in mock annoyance.

"Alright, sheesh, enough sappy junk. Next thing you know they'll be wanting us to make a 'Buddy Soldiers' vid." Shepard laughed, and the two of them pulled up chairs and spent their time smashing the bugs Miranda had pulled while they waited to hear back from Lia. Fourteen minutes later, Jeff's omni-tool beeped, and he answered the call, her helmet appearing again.

" _I've checked the code, Shepard and…it's_ _ **quite**_ _thorough. If I didn't know any better I'd think they were written by quarians. Whoever had these leashing protocols written was very paranoid about the AI coming loose. I hate to say it, but these protocols are extremely well-written, short of a complete manual access allowance, this 'EDI' is very well restrained. It…it should be safe for you. Well, as safe as an AI can be…"_ she trailed off, and Shepard nodded.

"I understand, Lia, and I really appreciate your help on such short notice." Her head nodded.

" _Happy to help Jeff's_ _captain, Shepard. Please keep him safe."_

"I will, I promise you that. I'm going to send him back to his quarters now so you two can have a more private conversation, while I get to work. Thanks again, you've been a great help." She nodded, and Joker ended the transmission, whispering that he would call her back, as he left for the elevator. Shepard called to him before the door closed. "Congratulations, Jeff. Really, I'm happy for you." For the briefest of moments, the pilot's rough façade cracked, and he smiled genuinely at John.

"Thanks, Commander. I'm pretty happy for me, too." The elevator doors closed, and John turned back to his desk, shaking his head while smiling. Tali would be happy to hear about Joker, and he wondered if she knew Lia. Maybe Amys did, they shared the name after all. Sitting down, he stared at the access login for his Inbox for a long moment. The bugs in his quarters were gone, his command had been firmly established, and the AI on board was confirmed shackled. Sighing softly, he called out to EDI.

"EDI…send a message to Operative Lawson. Tell her…tell her I will accept the Illusive Man funding my mission against the Collectors. This does **not** mean, however, that I in any way work for, am subordinate to, or am affiliated with Cerberus. If he accepts these terms in full, then the Normandy is ready to disembark."

"Message away, Commander. Operative Lawson is currently in direct contact with the Illusive Man. I will report back as soon as he has responded." Shepard counted the seconds, thirty-six. "The Illusive Man agrees to your terms, Shepard. He has forwarded three dossiers of possible recruits for your team, and requests you contact him at your earliest convenience using the QE relay in the Debriefing Room on Deck Two." Shepard nodded.

"Very well. Tell Helmsman Moreau to move the ship out…as soon as he's done with his personal call. Let's not interrupt him."

"Understood, Commander." The voice was quiet, but not gone, Shepard felt like it was paused, analyzing. Finally it spoke again. "Welcome aboard, Commander." He gritted his teeth, remembering Lia's words. _As safe as an AI can be…_

"Thank you, EDI. It's sure to be…interesting."

* * *

Shepard had felt the need for a shower after his…exercise in familiarity with the ship's AI. As he stepped out of the head, towel wrapped around his waist and steam rolling out behind him, he finally sat in his chair and opened his Inbox. The most recent message in it was from…Amys? A confused look spread across his face as he read the title: " _Personal Information_ " Opening the message, he sat back to read the contents.

_To: Commander John Shepard_

_From: Amys'Vael vas Neema_

_Subject: Personal Information_

_Message:_

_Commander Shepard,_

_I apologize in advance if I cross a line in sending you this message, so please allow me first to explain my reasons for doing so. I first fought with Tali about eight months ago, though I had heard of her and known about her for far longer before that. The geth data you helped her bring back made her a veritable hero among our people, but she accepted their praise with muted words and simple thanks._

_Your death devastated her, Shepard. We quarians…_ Keelah _this is more difficult to type than I had thought it would be. Tali told me once that Admiral Shala'Raan, who for all intents and purposes has become Tali's mother in the wake of her own mother's joining with the Ancestors, had told Tali she was beginning to bond with you. I do not know if Tali has told you this, and as such you can see why I may feel I am crossing a line here. But as Tali's friend, I am determined to see her happy, even if she does not know exactly how to do that herself._

_In the hours since we left Freedom's Progress, you are all she speaks of. She is so happy to know that you are alive, and while I'm not sure exactly_ _**what** _ _happened in that medical unit between the two of you…she seems more relaxed and at peace now than I have ever seen her. You grant her peace, Commander Shepard, and from your words and actions I can see that she does the same for you. Please be good to her, her body and mind are starting to realize you are back after two years of knowing you for dead, and I think that soon her bonding with you will bring her rushing back to the Normandy. This is a day I both hope for and dread, for it will bring her back to you, but away from me._

_She belongs at your side, Commander; I pray to the Ancestors that she will be able to again be there soon. No matter what may happen with your Cerberus dealings, know that for at least the three quarians whose lives you saved on Freedom's Progress, it's good to have you back._

John finished the message with a grin splitting his face in half. His heart, heavy after agreeing to work with Cerberus, felt lighter once again. Just at the mention of her feelings for him, his mood elevated beyond what he himself could have boosted it to. Yes, she **did** belong here, with him. And until that time he would work to make it a welcome place for her to be. Standing, he flagged the message for reply later on, threw on his clothes hurriedly, and walked to the elevator, pressing the button for Deck Two. Stepping out onto the CIC, he walked immediately over to Yeoman Chambers, and she turned hesitantly to speak with him.

"C-Commander?" He smiled warmly, realizing a new personal goal. He wasn't going to command this ship under Cerberus' name. He wasn't going to get to know this crew only to have the Illusive Man take the ship from him the moment the Collectors were defeated. No, he was going to _take_ this ship away from the Illusive Man, away from Cerberus, one crew member at a time. Beaming in the wake of the revelation, he spoke softly to the woman.

"Yeoman Chambers, I need to apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier." Her eyes widened, but a small smile crossed her lips as she listened. "I was having a, hopefully understandable, bad day, and took it out on you. I hope you can forgive me, and I'd love to start over if you'd allow me." He extended a hand to her, which she eagerly shook. "Commander John Shepard." She smiled wide as she spoke.

"Yeoman Kelly Chambers, but please Commander, call me Kelly. Everyone else does." He nodded.

"Okay then, Kelly, you handle my personal business as well, correct?" She nodded, and he continued. "So…is there anything I should know?"

* * *

**Nehya:** Term of endearment, similar to sweetheart. Literal translation: Interesting one. Used primarily at the beginning of a relationship to signify a desire to know the person on a more personal level, to get to know them better. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	6. His Side of the Story

***Author's Note***  
Hello everyone, so very sorry to be behind here. I was sleeping in the middle  
of the day yesterday and woke up in a fit of irritation over having not updated.  
RVone made it very clear I should sleep and not write, but what does **he** know,  
he's no doctor, right? Yeah! =P

Cooked this up while waiting for painkillers and Sudafed to knock me out again.  
Hope it's not as bad as I think it is, and I hope you enjoy! Fever is receding so I only  
anticipate a few more days of this, then back to normal. Again, very sorry everyone.

Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews and adds, you're amazing!

* * *

**His Side of the Story**

" _Through the darkest paths and deadliest journeys, duty to my ship and clan will keep me whole."_

"Identity confirmed. Welcome back, Amys'Vael."

Their shuttle continued towards the Fleet. The security officer had transmitted the Neema's coordinates to them upon receipt of Amys' all-clear, and she now piloted the craft steadily toward it, toward home. She sighed with relief, relaxing into the pilot's chair. Tali was in the back with Veetor, and for the first time in a good many days, Amys'Vael was alone with her thoughts. Ironically, she realized with a smile, those thoughts kept coming back to Shepard and Tali. She had sent the message to Shepard's omni-tool address about an hour ago when she'd come up to the helm, telling Tali she was sending a message to her parents. The man had used an open-encryption channel to communicate with them while fighting the YMIR, did he **really** expect a self-respecting quarian to not try to datamine its receiving address? Especially after seeing what she had seen happen between him and Tali? She laughed softly to herself, partly ashamed and partly proud of her actions.

"What's so funny?" Tali asked the question with some humor as she entered the cabin, and Amys simply smiled over at her.

"Oh, nothing. Just…remembering you and Shepard back there." Tali's hand again went to her visor.

" _Keelah_ , I completely forgot you were there. I hope I didn't do anything too embarrassing." Amys snorted.

"Embarrassing? Tali, the man you started bonded with turns up alive after two years of you presuming he's dead, what did you expect to happen? I haven't started bonding with anyone yet, and even **I** know a reaction like that is practically expected." They shared a soft laugh, and Tali shook her head slowly as she stared out the viewport.

"I…I'm still having trouble believing it. It's like… _Keelah_ it's like the Ancestors heard every one of my desperate prayers, but laced the answer to them in poison. Cerberus, Amys?" She nodded softly at Tali, understanding as she continued. "I can see it in his eyes, he's not happy in the slightest to be working with them, but he wants to be happy they brought him back. He's confused, he needs peace, time to think." Amys laughed again, placing a hand on the shoulder of the woman next to her, her best friend.

"He needs **you** , Tali'Zorah." She expected Tali to stammer or be nervous about her words, but was shocked when she simply continued to stare out the viewport at the Fleet, pausing before replying quietly.

"And I need him."

* * *

Tali intertwined her fingers nervously as she stood outside Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema's quarters. It had been a full day since their return, and Tali was still nervous. Amys leaned against the railing, Han's quarters were three flights up, and watched the people traffic below as they milled past. The Admiral's quarters were no different than anyone else's, save for the mosaic of patterns on the drape covering his door. An Admiral was a quarian of all clans and of one at the same time, and Han's 'door' showed this concept well. But Tali was not looking at the admiral's drapery at the moment. Suddenly, he emerged, nodding to both of them as he did, and they fell in beside him. He spoke as they walked

"Tali, Amys, how are you two holding up?"

"We're fine, Admiral, thank you," Tali replied, Amys nodding her assent. He sighed as they continued to wind their way through the Neema's corridors, toward the larger debriefing room where the rest of the Admirals would be waiting.

"I'm sorry Tali, putting you in charge of Prazza's team may have been a mistake." She started, ashamed, as they walked, and he caught the gesture, quickly speaking again. "Oh, no, not because of anything **you** did, kid. Just…I guess they were too green. Prazza seemed like a hard soldier though, can't imagine what would send him over the edge like that. I mean your report said you ran into your old commander and his strike team of humans but…hell they had just as much a right to be there as we did, more so to be honest. No reason for his actions…" he trailed off as they made towards the bow of the ship, reaching the debriefing room, and he stepped inside with a nod to each of them. Tali turned to Amys, tapping into their private channel.

"This is wrong. We shouldn't be doing this." Amys folded her arms as her voice resounded inside Tali's helmet.

" _And what do you want us to do, Tali? Go in there and tell them we worked with Cerberus to finish the mission? That because of his objections to Cerberus, no matter how rashly conceived, he and his team are dead? That_ _ **they**_ _of all people brought Commander Shepard back? Come on, Tali. We'll both be off the ship before we can finish_ _ **half**_ _of that."_ She nodded, she knew the woman was right, but she didn't want to admit it.

"I know I just…I don't like lying about it when there's blood on my hands."

" _It's not on your hands; it's on Prazza's. I don't care if there was a_ _ **geth**_ _platoon down there, if you told him to stand down, he should have stood down. They will understand that. If you want to tell them more…it's your decision, Tali."_ The other woman shifted uneasily, and Tali nodded, stepping into the room.

The room was still small, but on the far side stood a long table, behind which sat all five admirals of the Migrant Fleet. Tali swallowed as she recognized her father seated second from the left. Han moved to take the empty seat to his left, shaking his hand as he did, and Tali and Amys stepped forward in front of the table. Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay picked up her datapad, opening Tali's mission report as she spoke.

"Tali'Zorah vas Neema, this is a formal debriefing of your reconnaissance mission to the human colony of Freedom's Progress. Know that you are not charged with any crime or wrongdoing, we have called this debriefing simply to figure out what went wrong on that mission." Tali nodded, and Admiral Zaal'Koris continued her thought.

"We would appreciate it, Tali, if you could tell us the events that led up to the confrontation mentioned in your report. A bit of a back story, if you would." Tali nodded.

"Of course, Admiral Koris. Before we arrived on Freedom's Progress I had spoken with Prazza'Mal in private, indicating my desire to work together to lead the team. Since he had always led it and it was my first time in command of a mission, I thought it wise to alleviate his fears of my leadership." Their heads nodded in assent, and she continued. "Upon entry into the colony's airspace, we made visual contact with Veetor, he ran from us down a single path, suit ruptures visibly evident. Based on security logs taken after the fact, we can say with certainty that Veetor, in a mentally incapacitated state, activated the colony's defenses, including the YMIR mech."

"At the time, however, the colony was still empty. We chased after Veetor, looking for any survivors that could tell us what happened to the colony, when we came upon a fork in the road. Trusting Prazza's experience in leading his men, I sent he and his team towards the back of the colony, the research and heavy storage facilities, while Amys'Vael and myself made for the administrative complex. We would have stuck together…but time was running out for Veetor."

"A difficult decision, to split one's forces in a hostile territory," Han spoke in response. "but you needed to get to Veetor. I'd have made the same call." She nodded thanks to him before continuing.

"While Amys and I were searching for the administrative building, we made contact with the commanding officer of the human squad. They were trying to figure out what had happened to the colony, after noticing a comm blackout."

"And this commanding officer was…" Zaal hesitated, looking at his datapad, "the captain of the Normandy, the ship you spent your Pilgrimage on, is that right?" She nodded.

"Yes, Admiral. Captain Shepard was the officer in charge of the human team's mission." A small voice in her head laughed at calling Shepard a captain, but her people wouldn't understand the humor, and so she kept it to herself. Her father spoke, his words a bit cooler than they could have been.

"All reports we have on your Pilgrimage indicate Captain Shepard died in the attack on the Normandy, saving the lives of his crew." He had been told about her nightmares, the nights she'd wake up calling his name. He'd known she had begun developing feelings for her old captain, though she herself had never said so, and now that he was back…she realized the source of her father's icy tone.

"I had thought he did, Admirals. However, it seems he was in fact rescued. He told me that he had been comatose for the past two years while he was rehabilitated." There was a soft silence around the room. She had expected this, and an icy pit formed in her stomach. She knew what the next question would be, but was still unprepared for it. Admiral Raan ventured it softly, almost as if accidentally speaking a thought.

"Who…who would spend so much time, and certainly money, to bring back Shepard?" Tali glanced over at Amys, and found the other woman staring into her own eyes. She had said this was her decision…but she wouldn't condemn Amys too. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a male voice that sounded instead.

"The Alliance did it…" Tali whipped her head around to see Veetor stepping into the room with uncertainty. Another quarian was with him, but she hung back at the entrance, his doctor, Tali assumed. No one motioned or spoke to stop him, so he continued nervously as he walked further into the room. "H-He had to be Alliance. He was with them before his ship was destroyed…i-it only makes sense they'd want to bring him back. We've all seen what he did, wh-what he and Tali did, that is." There was a soft silence, and Tali felt her jaw hanging open behind her visor. Slowly closing it, she turned back to the admirals. Silence had hung in the air, and Admiral Daro'Xen spoke for the first time.

"Shepard was known to the galaxy as a Spectre, and as an elite Alliance operative before that. If they were to bring him back, it seems likely they would do so in secret, and only reveal his presence to the greater galaxy when he'd been tested thoroughly and lived up to expectations. Perhaps Tali'Zorah encountered him during this 'trial phase'. It would explain why we haven't heard anything about him over the extranet." The other Admirals nodded in agreement, and Tali's father spoke again.

"That still doesn't explain what this _Captain_ Shepard could have done to incite Prazza to mutiny." Tali heard the implied distaste on the title, and she fumed internally as she replied coldly.

" _Shepard_ didn't do _anything_ to Prazza, or his team." Her father's back straightened slightly at her directness, and she smiled maliciously as she continued. "I would know, I was with him the entire time, from the moment he made contact with our team until we both left the planet." _Not to mention those wonderful minutes in the med unit..._ Her smile turned to one of joy and she had to restrain herself from speaking the words she thought. The other Admirals nodded, returning to their datapads, looking for any other reason Prazza may have snapped. Her father met her gaze, however, and after a moment shook his head softly before returning to his own. She hadn't meant to say that so viciously…what was happening inside her head? _He attacked John_ , her mind replied matter-of-factly. _**No one**_ _attacks John._ A thought with so much veiled malice would have caused her to blink in surprise or at least be startled not too long ago. Now however, after what she knew, after how they both felt, she only gritted her teeth and nodded in agreement. **No one** was damned right; not even her father. _Especially not him,_ the voice corrected, and again she nodded.

"Admiral Zorah, if I may?" Amys asked politely as she stepped up beside Tali. Her father nodded to her, and she proceeded, pulling up her omni-tool. "I'm transferring to your personal omni-tools now a detailed suit integrity report that was running throughout our mission on Freedom's Progress. Specifically, I've filtered out all other members but Prazza'Mal." She waited, watching as one by one, the screen that hovered over her own wrist also hovered above theirs. "If you'll skip ahead to mission time 86:14, you'll see that at this point in the mission, Prazza'Mal's air filtration systems were incapacitated by a direct round from behind, striking his on-board filter, and causing it to malfunction. Because Prazza'Mal had until this point been completely cooperative with Tali'Zorah, it is my assessment that Prazza's malfunctioning air filters allowed foreign contaminants into his suit environment. If this were the case, it would not be difficult to see how he would have become delirious, and potentially hostile."

Tali's mouth hung open again behind her visor. Amys had prepared well for this question, but…how did she know that? Nothing would have prompted her to check the suit integrity reports except for sheer curiosity, and Tali had trouble believing this normally-bubbly, sing-while-she-hacks-doors soldier would be that tactically minded. The Admirals though seemed to agree with her; her father nodded in consent, and Admiral Koris spoke.

"That would explain the sudden inconsistency in his demeanor. And from unit reports we can see that by that time…the rest of the team was unfortunately already dead." A soft silence hung in the room, wordless prayers for the fallen, and after a moment Admiral Koris continued. "The only other question then that I have for the two…ah, three of you…is this: These same suit integrity reports show that Prazza'Mal's suit was ruptured no fewer than seven times before he died. Who killed him?" Amys stepped forward again.

"I did, Admiral Koris." The eyes of every Admiral in the room were on her now as she spoke. "Tali's hand was injured in a fight against a heavy mech, and she was unarmed while trying to calm down Prazza. I was coming to her assistance when he unlocked his own weapon and aimed it at Tali'Zorah. This constituted an immediate act of insubordination and attempt to murder, and I felt the situation called for deadly force. I opened fire on Prazza to keep Tali safe, as that was described as my primary mission objective in the briefing I received."

"Yes, we understand that, Amys'Vael. But…seven rounds?" Tali stepped forward beside her and spoke up.

"Amys saved my life, each of those seven rounds made sure of it. She could have put twenty rounds into him and as her commanding officer I would still stand by her judgment. Shooting one of our own is not a situation encountered on the battlefield; it isn't one we train for. Having to shoot a fellow quarian…I imagine Amys panicked. Just as I would do in a similar situation." After a long moment, Admiral Koris nodded, turning off his datapad.

"Then I accept your judgment, Tali. Unless there are any further questions…?" He looked around to the other Admirals, but every one shook their head. Nodding, he continued. "Then this debriefing is adjourned. Thank you Tali, Amys, and Veetor for your presence. Standing, the Admirals filed out alone or in pairs, speaking to each other about other things already as they moved. Admiral Gerrel paused as he walked by, turning to her and speaking softly.

"Tali, I'm sorry about all this. I'll write condolence messages to the families of those soldiers; this wasn't your fault, and you shouldn't have to bear that pain as well." She nodded softly, and he returned the gesture before walking away. For a moment she was lost in thought, before a stuttering voice brought her back.

"S-Sorry for barging in like that…it was pretty terrifying to do." Tali smiled at him as he fidgeted.

"I'm grateful you did Veetor but…" she looked around, seeing the room empty, "why did you lie to them?" He looked back and forth between her and Amys as he replied.

"B-Because if they knew the truth they…they would have been angry. B-Besides, Shepard helped you…helped me. I…I wouldn't want to say anything bad against him…" Tali nodded, and Amys did as well. Veetor turned to go, meeting the doctor at the door. As the curtain fell back into place, Amys sighed heavily and turned to her.

"Well, that went better than expected!" Tali stared at her in disbelief. The calculating tactician was gone, instead replaced once more by the bubbly quarian girl.

"You're telling me! What was all that about Prazza's filtration systems? How did you…why did you…I mean you couldn't have…" she trailed off, unable to properly voice the question, and Amys laughed weakly before replying.

"I…I knew his filters were damaged during the fight with the YMIR mech because…well because I shot them." Tali's eyes widened, and her mouth worked to find the words, but Amys held up a hand and continued. "I know, I know. But…he had already mutinied, Tali. Do you honestly think that if his team had killed that mech and we tried to stop him leaving with Veetor that he wouldn't have shot us? By the time we were in the thick of it with the mech, I knew that it was him or us, and that if we made it out we'd have to be here explaining why **he** didn't. So…I shot his filter to give us a cover story…" she finished meekly, and Tali placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You are a reckless _bosh'tet_ , Amys'Vael." The other woman visibly shrank away as Tali continued, "And, Ancestors forgive me for saying, a complete genius."

* * *

" **She'll** find **me**? That sounds like some terrible line from a classic spy vid; you realize that, right?" Shepard did little to hide his incredulity from the holographic image of the Illusive Man now occupying the Briefing Room on the Normandy. The other man nodded as he spoke.

" _Yes, Shepard, I understand how…_ clandestine _…it seems. But she's the best thief in the galaxy, and if this is how she'll approach us, this is how we'll do it_." Shepard still cringed at his use of the word 'us,' but decided to let it go.

"Right…so I guess I'll start with one of these other two and hope she shows up to save my ass or something. I've read the dossier on Mordin Solus, seems like he'd be a great pick-up. But your intel on this Archangel guy is…pretty thin. I'm surprised to be honest; I figured you'd be keeping better tabs on a turian vigilante."

" _He's not easy to get information on. All we know is that he's been operating on Omega for most of the time you've been dead. Built himself a team, had an organization going, though our contacts within the Blue Suns and Eclipse tell us he's been backed into a corner, most of his team killed. You'll probably have to fight your way out once you get to him_." Shepard chuckled, rearranging the datapads in his hand and holding up Mordin Solus'.

"Sounds like my kind of guy. Well I guess bringing a doctor along would be a good idea then…"

* * *

"You can't blame Aria for being nervous, things _explode_ around you, Shepard. Afterlife. **Now.** " Shepard's teeth had been gritted in frustration since he'd seen the batarian walking towards him, and the man's direct order pushed him too far. With a muffled _"Okay, that's it,"_ he stepped forward, grabbing the batarian, Moklan the salarian had called him, and slamming his back into the wall of the tunnel in which they stood. All four of his eyes widened in surprise, and Shepard put his face inches from his.

"I'll see your **boss** when I'm damn well ready. And make no mistake, tough guy, you ever order me or my crew around like that again, and the next thing that _explodes_ around me will be every single one of your eyeballs, you hear me?" Swallowing hard, the batarian nodded emphatically, and Shepard pulled him away from the wall, shoving him back down the corridor. Stumbling to catch his step, he composed himself and walked away from them. He was passed by a gruff-looking man, silver hair and scars aplenty on his head. Shepard noted a false eye as the man approached them laughing.

"So, first bastard you meet on Omega, and you make him piss himself and slink away? **You** must be Commander Shepard." John nodded, extending his hand, which the man took in a firm shake.

"Well you're not a salarian, turian, or a female thief, so I'm assuming you know more about something than I do." Another sharp laugh resounded from the man, and he spoke again.

"Your Illusive Man contacted me while you were on the way here. Paid my fee up front plus a…substantial bit more. Name's Zaeed Massani, mercenary extraordinaire and all around arsehole. You need someone shot, I'm your man." Shepard nodded.

"Sounds good. I could use someone with some knowledge of Omega. Miranda," he turned to her as he spoke. "Head back to the ship and let the Illusive Man know we've picked up Massani. The three of us will find Mordin and bring him to the ship." She nodded, turning and walking back without a word. The three of them stood there for a moment, Zaeed with a very confused look on his face as he glanced back and forth between Jacob and Miranda. "Something wrong?" He chuckled before speaking.

"Just wondering why you're keeping…this," he gestured to Jacob, "over…that…" he laughed, turning the gesture towards Miranda's retreating form. Shepard shook his head, and out of the corner of his eye could swear he saw Jacob tense up, but in an instant he was back to checking his rifle, all business.

"Yea," Shepard began warily, "I think you'll fit **right** in…" the mercenary laughed again as the three of them walked forward into Omega.

* * *

Tali stared up at the ceiling of her quarters. Her shift had just ended, and she'd left Maeris'Vael in charge. She smiled to herself as she thought about the engineer who only weeks ago had been fumbling about to find a power coupling for her, now nearly fluent in Tali's own scripts and power schemes. Yes, she thought to herself happily, he would be a good replacement for her when she left. The thought itself sent a ripple of nervous tension through her stomach. She had filed her absence request the second they had docked with the Neema, not wanting to put it off for the least amount of time. Still, the thought of leaving the Flotilla again made her a bit scared. Until she thought about what she'd be leaving it for. She smiled again behind her visor for the thousandth time in the past two days, closing her eyes and just allowing herself to _feel_ happy for the first time in over two years. Opening them again, she held her hand out, looking on it and trying to see past the glove to her skin, to where John had kissed her. A soft knocking at the doorway to her quarters roused her from memory, and she called out cheerfully.

"Come in!" Her purple drapery, patterned in the swirls of Clan Zorah, was pushed gently aside as Kal'Reegar stepped into her room. He immediately stood with his hands clasped behind his back, though his voice held happiness and genuine concern when he spoke.

"Tali'Zorah, it's good to have you back. I heard things went a bit rough down there…" he trailed off and she nodded, motioning for him to sit. He did so, and she told him the whole story, Veetor and the mechs, Prazza, and Shepard. He balked when she said it. "You mean… **the** Shepard?" She nodded excitedly.

"Yes Kal…he's…he's back. And he's still himself, he's still everything I remembered. And…" she hesitated. She hadn't told anyone about Shepard's words and actions in the med unit; even Amys wasn't completely aware and she had been there to see their reunion. "I…I told him everything." Behind Kal's visor, his eyes widened. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. She waited for the condescending remark, waited for him to tell her that a human and a quarian could not be together, but instead he let out a small laugh that startled her.

"Well? _Keelah_ , ma'am don't keep me in the dark here. How'd he take it?" She smiled again and had to restrain herself from crying. He and Amys both…they wouldn't judge her, wouldn't tell her it couldn't happen. They only wanted to see her happy. Friends like that…she silently thanked the Ancestors for them before replying.

"He…he cares for me too, Kal. _Keelah_ , he feels the same as I do." Kal nodded, tilting his head in a slight smile.

"Well I'm happy for the both of you, I only hope I get the chance to meet him one day. From what you've said about him, and what I've head from Freedom's Progress, the human's a damned _artist_ on the battlefield." Tali laughed softly.

"He is, and I would love for you to meet him. I've put in an absence request. As soon as we're done with this next mission, I'm sorry to say I'll be leaving your team, Reegar." He shook his head slowly, and in the greatest symbol of comfort she'd ever seen from him, he reached out to place a hand on her own. She stared down at it in surprise as he spoke.

"Ma'am, don't **ever** apologize for going where you belong." He pulled his hand away and handed her a datapad as he continued. "Let's get you in and out of this next mission in one piece, and then I'll escort you to his ship myself." Tali stood when he did, letting her smile come through her voice as she read the datapad.

"I think I'd like that, Kal. I really do."


	7. Hidden in Plain View

*****EDIT NOTE***  
Totally misspelled someone's name. Très embarrassant!**

***Author's Note***  
Hello again everyone! As seems customary with every chapter since starting _For We_  
Are Many, I feel the need to apologize for the late chapter. Illness  
has receded, and I'm hoping to get back on track (amazing what some  
green tea, saltine crackers, and large chunks of sleep can do. Cheers, immune  
system!)

Someone had PM'd me to ask if I plan on putting perspective into anyone  
but John and Tali with respects to the new Normandy crew, and the answer is  
most assuredly yes. It's just at this point in the story, the crew is so scarce, plus  
it's so soon after Freedom's Progress, that I want to focus mainly on those two  
right now. Garrus, Miranda, even characters like Chakwas and Ken/Gabby, I'll  
definitely be doing parts of the story from their perspective. There's actually a  
bit of that in this chapter at the end. =) In response to another comment, in this  
story, Shepard is of the Soldier class.

Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews and adds, even when I'm not updating people  
are adding…it's ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. =D

P.S. Enjoy the thematic inside joke, in reference to one of my more glaring mistakes  
in _The Darkest Night._ =P

* * *

**Hidden in Plain View**

"So who exactly is 'winning' this fight?" Shepard yelled to Zaeed over the gunfire resounding through the empty streets of Omega. The man just laughed sharply as he spoke.

"Hell if I know, Shepard. It's a goddamn free for all out there. But being as we're a team of three, and they're squads of at least a dozen on each side, let's just say we're on the losing side at this particular moment." Shepard sighed as he peered over the top again. The Blue Suns and the vorcha had been firing relentlessly at each other for twenty minutes now, and while his team could easily have dispatched the less-than-seasoned members of either side in half that time, together they were too much to handle. Shepard had ordered Jacob and Zaeed to take cover and take shots when they were available, but otherwise let them kill each other. He hadn't imagined it to take this long. Jacob spoke up, voicing Shepard's thoughts.

"Man…if I didn't already know they were terrible, I'd think they were experts at not getting shot…but they're just the luckiest sons of bitches on Omega…" Zaeed laughed again, a caustic sound, as he swung up over the top and fired into the vorcha.

"Well, one less lucky one," he replied as he came back down into cover. Jacob nodded approvingly. Shepard took another look at the battle unfolding in front of them. The Suns were at half strength, the vorcha a bit more than, but he was getting impatient. They had a mission to complete, a doctor to recruit. He smiled a bit to himself. Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone if asked, he knew that the other reason for his impatience was to get back to the Normandy, to check his private terminal. Every hour since Freedom's Progress he'd hoped to hear something from her, some message letting him know she was alright or, if his luck got **really** good, letting him know she was ready to join his crew. _No, John,_ his mind told him, _she has a mission of her own._ His impatience got the best of him, and he turned to the two men at his side.

"Alright fuck this, let's clean up." Jacob nodded. Zaeed just laughed.

* * *

Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay sat calmly on her sleeping mat aboard the ship she called home, the ship after which she was named. She looked around at the small living space she shared with her lifemate, at the scarce decorations they had placed upon the walls in an attempt to make this small space home, and sighed softly. The life of a Migrant Fleet Admiral was one of constant work, constant meetings and planning for the continued survival of the Fleet, but Shala enjoyed that. It was these few moments, when she had absolutely nothing to do, that her mind allowed itself to wander into far away thoughts, painful memories…She looked down once more at the small holo she had been holding for the past twenty minutes. A quarian woman, happiness shining through her eyes, holding a young child who was clutching her suit as if it were life itself.

"Meru…" she mumbled as she gazed upon the smiling mother, "your daughter…she has grown so strong. _Keelah_ I'm sorry I have had to be the one here for her and not you. You would be so very proud of her…" The holo had belonged to Rael'Zorah, and had been left behind a few months ago when he'd announced he'd be permanently living on the Alarei. Shala had found it under his sleeping mat when she went to speak with him, but when she'd asked him if he wanted it, he'd stammered out a quick refusal before claiming his work needed him. She shook her head softly at the recollection. Rael did not understand the mistake he was making with Tali, and yet it was not Shala's place to tell him so. All she could do was be there for Tali when she needed it. It's what Meru would have wanted. She nodded silently to herself, placing the holo on a small table next to her terminal. The other holo on the table was one of her and Garu, younger though still just as much in love. She smiled behind her visor, and as if summoned by her thought of him, the man himself pushed aside their drape of a door, visibly startled to see her before quickly crossing and embracing her.

"Shala! I did not know you would be here, _inszel_." She smiled at his words and squeezed him tighter before tapping her visor against his.

"I had not planned to be, Garu, but the meeting about the Fleet's operational status was delayed. All the Admirals need to be present for it, and Rael has claimed his work is at a critical stage, he cannot leave for another two hours." Garu scoffed.

"Rael'Zorah is always saying his work is at a 'critical stage,' what is he even doing over there?" Shala shrugged.

"He's being very secretive about it, though as an Admiral he has the right to be. All he's told us is that he's working on new algorithms and attacks against the geth. He's probably just analyzing the data Tali brought back, he pored over it for days when she'd first returned, to the exclusion of all else." Garu's eyes narrowed, and he looked away from her as he spoke.

"It's provider included…" Shala squeezed his arm in reassurance. He turned his gaze back to her, loving once more, and she continued.

"We are here for Tali, always. Rael is not the best father, but I know he loves her in his own way, Garu. What's important is that she knows she has us." He nodded softly.

"You are correct, as usual _inszel_." He seemed about to speak again when Shala's omni-tool chimed. "Duty calls at last?" he asked with a short laugh. She smiled wide as she read the message, turning back to him and tapping his visor with her own again.

"No, Geru. Family."

* * *

"So…we let the human go, and you let us walk?" The batarian still had his pistol leveled at John, but his voice spoke with uncertainty. Shepard's teeth ground together softly, they always did when he encountered batarians. Ever since… _No._ His mind spoke firmly, pushing old painful memories away. _Not every batarian is one of_ _ **those**_ _batarians, just like not every human is a bloodthirsty warmonger_. He repeated the words the counselors aboard the SSV _Intrepid_ had told him as he tried to recover from Mindoir as a young man. They did little to help.

"That's what I said," he replied, tone icier than he would have normally used. Old habits died hard.

"Wouldn't chance it, Commander. Besides, look at the shit they're using. Those pistols would barely touch us." Jacob's words were soft enough to not be heard by their enemies, yet still reach Shepard's ears, and he nodded in acknowledgment of the comment. The batarian spoke again.

"Alright, you win." He motioned to one of his men holding Mordin's assistant hostage. "Let him go." The batarian released his grip on Daniel and unceremoniously shoved him forward. The human stumbled before grabbing his medical bag and moving over to Shepard and his team. No one's guns lowered, and the batarian spoke again, fear lacing his words. "You got what you wanted, human…are we free to go?"

John's mind raced. _Not Blue Suns affiliated, probably just local citizens afraid of plague. Could retaliate when our guard is down, no, too scared. They're not looking for a fight…what the fuck are you_ _ **talking**_ _about, they're batarians, they're **always** looking for a fucking fight. Slaver assholes, ought to put the lot of them down like the __**animals**_ _they are. Stop it! Christ, John, listen to yourself. They're not slavers, they're people. Poor, hungry, terrified people. You're really going to just mow 'em down?_ The thoughts raced through in less than a second, and Shepard nodded softly in decision, lowering his weapon.

"We had a deal." The batarian looked at once shocked and grateful as he replied.

"Human nobility…I didn't think such a thing existed." Zaeed laughed and replied acerbically.

"Only in small doses." The batarians took the hint, nodding and exiting the room quickly and without incident. Daniel, mouth agape watching the scene unfold, now rushed over to Shepard.

"Oh my God, thank you. I thought I was going to die back there. Are…are you here to clean out the Suns and the vorcha?" Shepard smiled.

"Among other things, yea. Mordin sent us in to get the environmental controls back online. Without them, this whole district is dead in a matter of hours." Daniel swallowed hard as he replied.

"D-Doctor Solus? So then…you know who I am. God, I suppose he sent you in after me, didn't he?"

"He asked us to keep an eye out for you. After what just happened here, I don't think you need a lecture about how venturing out here on your own was a stupid idea…but Mordin is swamped with patients. He needs help, and he needs it fast." Daniel nodded emphatically, grabbing his medical bag off the table it had rested on and speaking quickly.

"Yes, of course. I assume the way behind is…um…clear?" Shepard nodded, and he continued. "Okay, okay great. Thank you again; I'm headed back right now." He rushed from the room and back down the hallway their team had come up. Shepard turned back to his team.

"Alright boys, check weapons and let's head out. Area readout says the environmental plant is just ahead." Jacob made a soft * _ahem*_ and Shepard looked to him. "What is it, Jacob?"

"Well ah…" the man began nervously, "it's just that we'll be fighting a lot more vorcha up ahead, Commander. Was just thinking maybe you'd want to…ah…use your incendiary ammo?" Shepard's eyes widened, and he looked down to see he had still been using regular ammunition in his rifle. Glacing back up quickly, he spoke.

"How the hell long has **that** been happening?" Jacob smiled, and Zaeed laughed aloud before speaking.

"Only the whole time since we left the Clinic. Truth be told, you were killing pretty goddamn well without it, I was just going to wait and see how long it took you to notice yourself." Even Jacob laughed at that, and Shepard allowed a grin to split his own face as he tapped in the activation code for incendiary rounds in a very over-exaggerated manner.

"I'm so very glad to know you both have my back. Move out."

* * *

Tali stood outside the quarters of Admiral Shala'Rann vas Tonbay, her fingers intertwining at her waist as she hesitated before going in. Something was… _wrong_. Auntie Raan had always been there for her, always been willing to help with any problem no matter how personal. Tali had begun to accept her as the mother she hadn't had since…she shook her head, pushing away painful memories, and refocused on the situation at hand. Shala had always been kind and loving to her, so why was she now afraid to speak to the woman?

_She was there at the debriefing. And she's one of three people in the entire Fleet who knows how you felt—feel,_ she corrected with a smile _, about John…_ Swallowing with some difficulty, she braced herself and knocked on the door frame. A male voice responded, startling Tali.

"Come in," she recognized Garu's voice and stepped hesitantly into their quarters, unprepared for what she found. Shala and Geru sat on their sleeping mat, Amys'Vael sat at their terminal chair, and Kal'Reegar leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Her eyes went wide with shock, and she considered simply ducking out of the room, sprinting down the hallway and hiding somewhere, but her nerves steadied when Shala stood and crossed to her, pulling her in gently by the arm. She laughed at Tali's confused look and replied.

"Tali, I know you sent a message asking to meet only with me, but I thought you might rather like to be among family when you talk about such a thing." Tali's eyes moved to Garu, who nodded, across to Kal, who nodded as well, and came to rest on Amys, who simply shrugged. Tali laughed at her feigned indifference, as did the others, and the tension immediately left her. Why did Amys have such an aptitude for that? "So, Tali. What did you want to talk to your family about?" Her eyes watered, and she spoke softly.

"I…I don't know. I was going to talk to you about…well about captain Shepard." Amys snorted.

"Come on, Tali. We may call him that but don't be formal for formality's sake. You call him John. Always do when you're swooning over him…" Tali started in indignation, but couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face as she regarded the woman.

"Very well, then. I wanted to talk about John. Some…things happened on Freedom's Progress, and I'm still trying to make sense of it all." Shala's eyes widened a bit behind her visor, and Garu nodded in understanding. Amys almost bounced in her seat, and Kal's back straightened as he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Ah, Admiral Raan, if you'd like I can leave the room. Not sure exactly where this conversation is headed, but I wouldn't want to make Tali'Zorah feel embarrassed." Amys giggled, but Shala turned to Kal and spoke reassuringly.

"It's quite alright, Kal. I think despite Tali's initial hesitation, she'd like all of our input on this. You especially, after having helped her through the last two years." Tali nodded, adding to what had been said.

"Yes, please stay Kal." At her words he relaxed, nodding and leaning back against the wall. She took a deep breath and continued. She told them about Shepard tackling her out of the way of the YMIR mech, his field bandaging of her wound, his saving her life once again from Prazza, and hesitated. Should she tell them about the med bay…? Shala took her pause as liberty to speak, and did so hesitantly.

"Amys'Vael…you said that **you** saved Tali from Prazza." Tension grew again in the room, and Amys stammered out a few syllables before Tali interrupted her. She would not let her friend take the punishment for this.

"I told her to, Shala." The Admiral's gaze whipped back to Tali, and she took a deep breath.

"Then there is something you haven't told the other Admirals." Tali nodded before speaking.

"Shepard wasn't rebuilt by the Alliance. He was rebuilt by Cerberus." Shala stepped back, and Garu's back straightened. Even Kal was standing alert at her words, and she hastily continued. "I know. I had a similar reaction, and _Keelah,_ Amys almost shot him on sight." The other woman let out a weak laugh at the recollection. "But I talked to him about it. He's…bitter, and resentful. Auntie Raan you have **no** idea how many Cerberus operations Shepard and I shut down…violently…before I came back from Pilgrimage. If he tells me he's not working for Cerberus, I believe him. I **know** he's telling the truth." Shala stood silently for a long moment before nodding.

"Only the word of one bonding with him would convince me so. I am sure you see things we do not in his voice and body language, that convince you he speaks the truth. I take it this is the true reason Prazza'Mal mutinied?" Tali nodded before speaking again.

"I told him I had the situation under control, and that we had a common enemy in the mechs, but he wouldn't listen. He took his team and began to fire upon the Cerberus agents, only interrupted by Veetor activating the YMIR mech." Shala nodded, and Tali sighed in relief, having told **some** one the truth. The room was very quiet for a moment until Shala spoke again, addressing everyone in attendance.

"You were all brought here to listen to this conversation as a family, as Tali's family. We are the ones who care for her in the absence of those who did. The details of what was spoken here will never leave this room, is that clear?" Nods and murmurs of assent went around the room, and Tali suppressed the urge to cry. These quarians truly were her family, her brother and sister, her mother and father. They would never betray her trust, and that feeling alone made her feel a welling of pride in all of them. Yes, she decided, she would tell them. Clearing her throat, she spoke again, gaining everyone's attention.

"There was…one other thing I had planned to talk to you about, Shala…" she trailed off, and while Shala regarded her with a questioning tilt of her head, Amys laughed softly as she spoke.

" _Keelah,_ I **knew** it. What happened in that med unit, Tali?" Tali couldn't help but chuckle as Shala's eyes grew very wide, and she spoke with the most motherly, reproachful voice Tali had ever heard, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Yes, Tali, **what** indeed happened in the med unit?"

* * *

"Well done, Shepard. Plague levels dropping, environment stabilizing, vorcha and Blue Suns retreating, area recovering. Impressive. Thank you." Daniel stepped up quickly beside the doctor.

"A-And thank you from me, as well. I thought for sure I was a goner. Hell, for a second there I thought those batarians were goners too, even after they released me." Shepard looked away from him, trying not to feel the memories creeping up.

"So did I…but we had a deal."

"Mercy surprising, given extended military and personal history," Shepard's gaze snapped to the salarian before remembering he'd mentioned being in the Special Tasks Group. He probably knew everything there was to know about the famous Commander John Shepard. "Would have killed them, personally." The statement shocked John, but his assistant more so.

"Doctor Solus! How can you say that? We're supposed to be here to help people!"

"Many ways to help people, Daniel. Sometimes treat illness, sometimes kill others who would cause harm. Both ways help. Now go, more patients with medical needs. Think about what I said." Shaking his head softly, Daniel left the room, and Mordin turned back to Shepard. "Good kid, he'll learn. Leaving him in charge of Clinic when I leave. Very apt at medicine…not so apt at social matters, I'm afraid. Either way, mechs will help." Shepard nodded.

"Are you all set to come with us then?" His question perked the salarian up out of his confused thinking.

"Yes! Excited to be working alongside famed Commander Shepard. STG files…quite applauding." Shepard shook his head again as he spoke.

"Well glad to have you aboard, Mordin. If you don't mind, I'd like to head back to the Normandy for a bit, and then take you immediately out with us again. Where we're headed next, I may very well need a doctor." The salarian turned to him, nodding, but the question evident in his eyes before he began to think aloud.

"Medical assistance necessary? Where on Omega would that be required? Not slums district, threats there recently neutralized, by you no less. No, no…would require more hostile atmosphere, also possibility of recruiting skilled members of team for mission against Collectors. Found out about my work from Aria T'Loak, others she may recommend include…" he stopped decisively, raising his gaze to look into Shepard's eyes. "High-risk operation, conflict inevitable, skilled candidate, you're going after Archangel." Jacob laughed softly, and Zaeed spoke up from behind him.

"Yea… **he's** going to be **loads** of fun to have on board…"

* * *

She watched as the four of them exited the clinic. Three humans and doctor Solus. _That must be him, then_ , she thought to herself as she spied the human in the lead. Powerfully built, strong jaw, eyes that…had seen quite a bit, she would imagine. Things no one should. Following along carefully, she tailed them as they made their way back to his ship. She smiled as she recalled her self-imposed challenge earlier.

_She stalks up to the hatch, blanketed in her tactical cloak. She's confident no one will see her coming, after all, she's spent a fortune on this thing, upgrading it to increase its effectiveness and duration. Stepping inside the airlock, she smiles as she makes her way through the cockpit, narrowly avoiding the pilot's arm as he swings maliciously yet ineffectively at a glowing blue orb emanating from a holopad beside him. Her reverie at her success continues as she continues down the main hallway. She's looked over the ship schematics, already picked a room, now all that's left is to get there. Her smile disappears in surprise when a voice enters her personal comm device._

"Welcome aboard the Normandy, Miss Goto. I have been instructed to allow you admittance, though my programming does not mention why you would need to do so under cover of a tactical cloak."

_Stepping quickly off the main path, she finds a secluded corner before covering her mouth and replying._

" _Who…who is this? How did you see me?"_

"I am EDI, that is an acronym, but the crew have used it to refer to me, so I have adopted it as a familiarity. I am the Normandy's on-board artificial intelligence. My high-grade thermal and bio-scans were able to pick up trace figures moving in a human-like manner throughout the ship. Given the information contained in your recruitment dossier, I assumed the figure to be yourself, and initiated contact." _Her mind starts, an on-board AI? She'd heard of crazier things…but not much crazier…_

" _Ah…well I was just…seeing if I could make it to my quarters without anyone noticing. Guess that bit of fun is spoiled…"_

"I have not made any of the Normandy crew aware of your presence, Miss Goto."

" _Kasumi, please. And…why not?"_

"Out of a computational interest to see your skills in action, and evaluate them." _She lets a smile slowly spread across her face as she realizes what the machine is telling her._

" _So…you didn't tell anyone because…_ _ **you**_ _want to see if I can do it too?"_

"That is correct." _She laughs, stalking back out onto the main walkway._

" _Well alright then, EDI. Let's see how this goes."_

"Understood, Kasumi. Logging you out."

She had picked up the last bit of their conversation, and decided immediately that she'd like to accompany them on their next mission. Recruiting Archangel? Shepard was more badass than she'd thought. She'd only been on Omega for a few months, hiding out after the last heist, but she'd been made well aware of his reputation, both among the people, and the gangs. Yes, she thought with certainty, this was one turian she was quite excited to meet.

Stepping out from the alleyway beside their docking bay, she de-cloaked, earning the surprise of the two men and the salarian. Shepard, to his credit, simply turned and looked into her eyes. His gaze was dominating, and she almost faltered before working up her charm and stepping forward. He spoke first.

"Kasumi Goto, I take it? Sensors probably would have picked up anyone else." She smiled and nodded, extending a hand to him which he shook cordially.

"At your service, Shepard. I've heard you're heading after Archangel, and I'd like to join you." He nodded.

"Not a problem. I'll be taking doctor Solus here as well. Have you gotten your things on the ship yet?" She laughed softly before replying.

"Not quite yet, it's all right here in the alleyway. I had actually hoped to have a few strong men help me with it.." she trailed off, and Zaeed stepped forward.

"Well alright, let's get moving then." She pointed to a crate which he stepped forward to lift. He groaned loudly with the effort as he lifted the box, and Kasumi stifled a laugh as he did. "Christ! What's in this goddamn box?"

"Oh just a few books I like to have on hand." She looked to Shepard, whose eyes were on Zaeed, a smile splitting his face as he spoke.

"Come on, Zaeed, I thought you were a tough guy."

"Hey! If **you'd** like to come carry this goddamn crate, be my guest! No? Yea, thought not. Come on, Taylor, don't just stand around." Jacob jumped to help, and Shepard grabbed some items as well. She followed behind the three of them, walking next to Mordin as she observed with humor the three men struggling with her belongings. She was caught off guard when the salarian spoke up.

"Kasumi Goto. **The** Kasumi Goto?" She smiled as she turned to him.

"Well I would certainly hope so…I'm the only one with my name that **I** know of."

"Same Kasumi Goto who, along with partner Keiji Okuda, stole famous salarian painting of _Ri'ash_ from cultural celebration event on Citadel three years ago?" She swallowed, and her smile dipped a bit as she replied.

"You..ah..you're quite well-informed, doctor Solus." He waved away her compliment, still looking over medical data on his omni-tool as they walked.

"Spent some time in Special Tasks Group. Retired now, still…hear things. STG file not very large, but mentions specific heists." A silence hung between them, and she ventured forward cautiously.

"Why…ah, why do you ask?" He responded lazily, still analyzing the data.

"Belonged to my family." An icy pit formed in her stomach.

"I see. Well…I don't suppose it would help to apologize…" he laughed, suddenly and quickly, and she started in response. For the first time since starting their conversation, he turned to her, looking her in the eye as he spoke.

"Not necessary. Always hated painting as a child. Gave me nightmares. Was glad to see it gone. Should _thank_ you." She looked at him incredulously for a moment, and as a smile came upon his face, she allowed herself to laugh aloud in relief before responding.

"Oh, well then you're welcome! Just…you know…doing my civic duty." He chuckled before turning back to his data, and Kasumi looked forward to the Normandy again, a smile on her face.

Yes, this was going to be fun.

* * *

**Inszel:** Term of status or standing within a social circle. Literal translation: Most trusted confidant and partner. Used to describe the personal relationship of an individual. Implies a deep personal connection. Humans would say girlfriend or boyfriend but these only touch the surface of what it truly means. (Source - _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	8. On the Wings of Angels

***Author's Note***  
Hello again, all! Sorry for the few days without here, school is getting a bit  
crazy as we're in the last month of the semester. Also was asked why it's taking  
a bit longer to update these chapters, and the main reason is other obligations,  
but another big factor is that the average chapter in _The Darkest Night_ was anywhere  
from 2800-3500 words, while the average chapter in _For We Are Many_ is around  
4900-5100. Quite a bit more to write, more points of view and more background  
to establish.

Anyway, I've been missing writing and I don't work at all tomorrow, so I'm putting  
this up now and hope to have another one up by close of business tomorrow. Stay  
tuned, and again thanks for the reviews and adds, you're all spectacular!

* * *

**On the Wings of Angels**

" _I don't know, it just seems kind of…archaic, you know?" She speaks softly as she questions his faith, and inwardly he smiles at her delicate handling of the situation._

" _Perhaps, but it allows us…allows me, a closer connection to my surroundings. The world_ _ **feels**_ _more alive, I suppose you'd say." He speaks in a soft voice, meant to assure her he finds no insult in her question. "Besides," he continues, "is it really that much different than an almost deification of one's ancestors?"_

_She shakes her head softly as she replies. "No, I suppose not. I'm…I'm sorry, Garrus, I didn't mean to offend you."_

_He laughs, she can be so hesitant sometimes, and waves away her statement as he speaks. "Don't worry about it. Truth be told not many are interested to hear about it. But tell me, these Ancestors of yours, are they…just_ _**your** _ _ancestors you call upon for guidance, or all of them?"_

" _All of them," she says, leaning forward a bit in her chair, in eagerness to speak more about her people. He smiles as she continues. "Not only those of myself or my family, but the spirits of all quarians, including any friends or loved ones…" she trails off, and he wonders why there's pain there. He's never really asked about her family, there hasn't really been a good time to, but he figures she probably doesn't want to revisit it right now anyway. As if sensing his hesitation to speak, she continues rapidly. "Ah, Ancestors is somewhat of a vague term you could say. It means something a bit different in Khelish, but from what I've heard Shepard, and now you, say, there's a bit lost in the translation." He nods, understanding._

_A call for guidance from the spirit of an entire people, the spirit of a friend, or a family. Maybe their two species weren't so different after all…_

"Really? You're going to just walk out there like you own the place? Do you even **see** the number of dead mercs around you, asshole?" Garrus mumbled to himself as he fired a round into the head of the impetuous Blue Suns merc. No more followed him over the barricade at the end of the bridge, and so he took a moment to slip back into cover and check his chrono. He sighed as he read the local time. _03:46._ Most people on Omega would be asleep right now, dreaming of the next terrible thing they were going to do to one another when they awoke.

But not Garrus Vakarian. Here was a turian who had stood next to humanity's first Spectre, who had assisted in ridding the galaxy of both the geth assault and Saren Arterius. And instead of a comfortable job on the Citadel or a high-ranking distinction within the turian military, he was here, on Omega, hiding out from fucking humans and batarians playing gangster in their pretty little painted armor sets. He leaned his head back against the upper-floor windowsill, pushing away the thought that maybe, just **maybe** , Executor Pallin had been right. This place had been his cover spot for a day and a half now. _A day and a half_ , he thought bitterly, _Tarak's just wearing me out. One of these hours he's just going to push forward with everything, but he'll wait until I start missing headshots to make that call..._

Nodding, he knew his goal, his way to stay alive while he waited for…for what? Backup? No one was coming to save him. His only chance, his one and only opportunity for survival, was to kill every single one of them. Shaking his head, he returned to his vigil in time to see three humans cresting the barricade. He started; they weren't in Blue Suns armor, they were in regular street clothes. _Spirits no…_ Tarak wasn't sending just the Blue Suns and Blood Pack after him; he was recruiting freelancers, and sending every bastard on Omega in for a shot. Placing his eye to the scope again, he pulled the trigger three times, three dead freelancers, and sighed heavily, checking his chrono again.

_03:52_. It was going to be a long night…

* * *

John stepped out of the head on Deck One, steam rolling through the doorway behind him, racing toward the ceiling as it exited the room. Though he still wasn't a fan of working with Cerberus, he had to admit, it was good to be back on the Normandy. _No,_ he thought with a sigh, _she isn't the Normandy, she's…different._ Different, and yet the same. Crossing to his personal terminal, he opened it to find new dossiers from the Illusive man: a convict and a krogan warlord. _Right,_ he thought with irritation, _because_ _ **those**_ _are two things I want roaming around my ship._ Rolling his eyes, he flipped back to the Inbox. His heart stopped for a moment as the machine processed incoming mail, and indicated a new message received. Opening it, he smiled as he read.

_John,_

_I hope you're alright, I'm sorry I haven't written until now but I've been unusually busy. There was a debriefing about the situation on Freedom's Progress, and quite a bit of prep work for our upcoming mission. Speaking of prep work, I seem to have lost a file I used quite frequently on the Normandy's drive cores. It was a readout runtime that shaved the process down by about twenty minutes. I seem to recall sending it to you once when you asked how it worked. If you could check your personal box and send me a copy of the file if you find it, I would really appreciate it._

_We're on our mission in two days' time. I'm nervous, but Kal'Reegar and Amys will both be with me, so that eases it a bit, I think. I was informed today that my absence request was approved unanimously, which was a bit of a shock, but not at all unwelcome. I look forward to hearing about how you've been, maybe if you're prompt I'll get to read about it on the way to our mission. Be safe, John…_ Keelah _I can't lose you again._

_\- Tali_

_P.S. I got your address from Amys of all people…she wouldn't tell me how she got it, though she assures me you did not give it to her, and when I asked what she'd used it for she simply stammered out an excuse and left quickly._ Keelah _, I hope she didn't write you an embarrassing letter..._

Shaking his head softly and laughing at Amys' actions, John switched over to an extranet window and opened his private box. He had no idea what kind of technical file Tali would have sent him...or why she'd think he'd even be able to **recognize** it with his complete lack of technical expertise, but it wouldn't hurt to check. When he opened the box, however, he noticed the newest item sitting at the top of the list: a simple text file. Opening it, he read on.

_John,_

_Sorry for making you come here, but what I have to tell you can't be said on an insecure channel._ _You and I are the only ones who would ever come close to guessing your password for this account, so I feel safe telling you here. They're sending us into geth space, John._ Keelah _and not just past the veil, but deep into geth space. I've attached the planetary readouts, it_ _'s a star called Dholen, more specifically the old quarian outposts_ _on Haestrom. I admit I'm a bit scared going on this mission, but as I said before, Kal and Amys will be with me_ _, so I'm sure we'll be alright. I just wanted you to know where I'll be, please don't tell anyone, I trust you with this, and everything else._

_I miss you, John. I wasn't sure how I felt at first about what happened on Freedom's Progress. You were...back. You were real, after I'd spent two years convincing myself you were gone. Not that I'm unhappy to see you again, it was just...shocking. I talked to some people I trust, and while I'm still amazed that you feel the same way I do, I can't wait to be by your side again._

_\- Tali_

John archived the message with a smile and left his personal box open to respond in kind, walking into the lower area of the room to pull on his clothes. As he pulled his shirt over his head, an increasingly-familiar voice spoke into the room.

" _Commander Shepard, I have urgent information pertaining to one of your squad dossiers."_

Surprisingly, EDI was becoming less and less grating to interact with. Perhaps, he thought reluctantly, it was because she had actively avoided bothering him unless it was absolutely necessary, and he could, he supposed, appreciate that.

"Yes, EDI, what is it?"

" _I have been monitoring communications traffic since we docked on Omega. Recently, I was able to disable security protocols surrounding known Blue Suns communication frequencies. It seems that of Archangel's original team, he is the only one left alive. Taking into consideration the sizes of the forces amassed by the respective gangs on Omega, Archangel's chances of surviving the night are extremely low."_

Shepard nodded. "Thanks for the information. Tell Kasumi and Mordin to get ready and meet me at the airlock in ten minutes."

" _Understood, Commander."_

Quickly pulling on his armor, he stepped into the elevator and pressed the holo-panel for Deck Two. As the doors closed, he looked back into his cabin, at his terminal with Tali's open letter, waiting to be replied to, and sighed. _Sorry, Tali_ , he thought with remorse. Silently he chastised himself for not taking the time to do so, but the mission had to come first.

_This 'Archangel' had better be worth it._

* * *

The only light in the otherwise-dark space was the orange glow of the omni-tool. It shone softly, even in this place where there was no other light, its muted orange bathing the tight walls and soft steel of the door. It also splashed across the soft brown cheeks, and glinted off the sharp green eyes, of the face that looked down into it. The face was youthful but hardened, a girl of thirteen, thrust into impossible situation after impossible situation, until the fires of pain had burned away all but that most basic desire to survive, and to protect those she cared for.

The protective feeling pulled Serra Vanin's gaze away from her omni-tool, _Alex's omni-tool_ , she corrected with a grimace, and toward her sisters. They sat huddled in a corner, Myra holding Daeva as they both slept. Serra couldn't sleep, hadn't slept since Alex had left. He had saved them, along with the krogan, they had slaughtered the people keeping them captive, and freed them. She had trusted Alex, he had been like a father to her; a father, an older brother, and a friend, all at once. Pushing back the memories, she checked the omni-tool's chrono again. She had started the timer as Alex had shown her the second he'd left the room. No one had come in since, and so she'd allowed it to continue. It had been a day and a half. Almost time. She reviewed the plans she'd made to get to the spaceport. She was ready, ready to take her sisters and get out of here, ready to find somewhere safe.

It's what Alex would have wanted, she thought sadly. The tears flowed then, and she did not stop them, but stifled her sobs so as not to wake her sisters. She had to be strong, for all of them.

* * *

"Well…you certainly look like you could do some damage," the batarian muttered approvingly as Shepard, Mordin, and Kasumi stepped into the room used for recruiting. "Not sure I'd bring my personal stripper with me, but I guess to each his own." Shepard thought about saying something in Kasumi's defense, but when he turned to look at her, she was gone. The batarian also looked confused when he looked up from his terminal and the woman he'd been speaking about had vanished.

In a moment, she rematerialized behind him, placing her submachine gun against the base of his spine as she whispered into his ear. "Oh don't worry, I've got plenty of moves, it's just that most of them involve you being dead at the end." Shepard grinned as he watched the batarian stammer out an apology; he had a feeling he was going to like this girl.

Ten minutes later they were flying above the streets of Omega, headed down the spine of Omega to the warehouse district levels below. The car was automated, and so the three of them sat otherwise alone in the skycar as it zipped toward the base of operations for the assault. Kasumi broke the silence as they stared out the window.

"So you really think we'll get this guy out of there? I mean I've heard some impressive stories about him, but…look at all the work they're putting into this one, Shep." He cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her abbreviation of his name.

"Yes, dangerous mission parameters. Scans of area indicate large presence of Blue Suns, Blood Pack. Eclipse also present, but reserved. Will probably attack later in fight, possibly waiting for assured outcome of conflict before engaging. Either way, situation extremely one-sided." Mordin had continued to look out the window as he appraised the situation, but now turned to Shepard along with Kasumi, looking to him for his assessment.

"In will be easy, out's the hard part. But I didn't spend the last two years recovering just to die in my first week alive. We'll get him out, I'm picking up the best in the galaxy, and that includes the two of you." Mordin nodded, seemingly contented, and looked back out the window as the skycar began to land. Kasumi kept her eyes on him for a long moment, then smiled and nodded.

* * *

Garrus sighted down the scope as the group of eight humans in armor crested the barricade. He fired rapidly, taking out those too slow or stupid to move immediately to cover. Most fell easily, but he noted with increasing worry that one human and a salarian were moving rapidly and efficiently toward him. Firing round after round, he tried to hinder their progress, and panic grew in his chest as they advanced. A last desperate shot caught the human in the right shoulder, and he seemed to falter for a bit, but rolled forward and under Garrus' range of fire. Swearing loudly, the turian looked back down the bridge, where a pack of Blue Suns troops were cresting the barricade. One of them was a pyro unit.

_Jackpot,_ he thought, and lined up the shot, popping his ammunition type over to incendiary. He let the shot ring out and it impacted the pyro's fuel tank, igniting the liquid within and causing an explosion that claimed the lives of the rest of the squad, lighting the far end of the bridge ablaze. Noticing the time he'd bought himself, he tuned quickly from the window and rushed to the balcony overlooking the first floor below. As he crossed he heard gunfire from below, and the sound confused him. _What are they firing at?_ he questioned as he took cover, allowing himself to peek over.

Below, the human and salarian leaped over a couch, slamming their backs into it as Suns troopers Garrus had missed flowed into the room, firing towards the furniture. Bullets tore through the cushions, and the human swung out, firing on the Suns. _Wait,_ _ **firing on the Suns**_ _…_ Garrus thanked the spirit of his unit as he sprung up over cover, firing round after round into the exposed backs of the Suns troops. The trio quickly mopped up, and the human and salarian stood, looking up to him as he rose from cover, lowering his rifle as he spoke.

"I have no idea who you are, but right now you're the only friends I've got on this station, so you'd better get up here before they come across the bridge again."

The human nodded, and motioned to the salarian, the pair of them moving toward the stairs. Garrus crossed back to the cover spot, watching across the bridge as the flames continued to rage. That would stop them coming for a few minutes at least, plenty of time to meet the backup he had **known** wouldn't come. The human and salarian stepped into the room, weapons collapsed and walking calmly. The way the human walked…it reminded Garrus of a friend long gone, and he smiled unconsciously, stepping forward and extending a three fingered hand.

The human took it with a nod. "Archangel, I presume?"

Garrus nodded. Even his voice sounded like Shepard…"Who are you? Not that I make a habit of questioning the motives of those who back me up, just curious." The human visibly started, and Garrus cocked his head to the side in confusion.

He recovered his composure and continued slowly. "My name is Shepard; I'm on a mission to take down the Collectors, and I need the best the galaxy has. That's you, Archangel." Garrus' mouth hung open behind his helmet. He…he was back. _Shit, I have to tell Tali!_ He laughed softly at the first thought that crossed his mind, and the human tilted his own head in surprise.

Garrus stepped forward, raising his hands and taking off his helmet. The human's eyes went wide as he placed it on the couch beside them and spoke. "Well, if you're looking for the best, I'm flattered you came looking for **me** again, Shepard. Guess I made an impression." His mandibles opened in a smile, and Shepard rushed forward, taking the turian's hand and clapping a hand to his shoulder.

"Garrus! You're kidding me! How the hell did you wind up on Omega?" Garrus gripped his old friend's hand tightly, still shocked he was alive.

"How did I wind up here? By the spirits, how are **you** still **breathing** , Shepard?"

The human laughed before replying. "Tell you what, let's get you the hell out of here and back on the Normandy, and I'll tell you all about it." Garrus nodded, and he continued, crossing to the cover spot as he examined the bridge. The fires he had started were now all but extinguished, and soon more mercs would be crossing over. He didn't notice Shepard step up beside him until the man spoke.

"Just our little team against an army, huh?"

Garrus turned to his friend and laughed. "Yea, just like old times." As he spoke, the air beside him shimmered, and a young human woman appeared, speaking as her cloak recharged.

"Oh good, I've read stories about 'the old times,' this should be interesting."

* * *

"What the **fuck** just happened out there?" Tarak roared into the face of his human subordinate, as she struggled visibly to maintain control.

"I-It appears a group of three mercs fought their way in to…ah…assist Archangel." His hand was quick, and it struck her hard across the jaw. Jentha reeled from the blow, clutching at her cheek and staring back at him with wide eyes as he growled.

"Your incompetence is astonishing. What's more astonishing is why I keep allowing you to breathe." He turned to one of his men, and away from her ever-widening eyes. "Get the gunship ready, I'll finish this myself.

* * *

"What are we waiting for, Garrus? We need to get the hell out of here!" Shepard roared over the din of battle, the muzzle of his assault rifle blazing over their balcony cover as they fired below. Shepard and Kasumi had just returned from the lower levels, and Garm's still-bleeding body lay behind them, a testament to Archangel's latest high-ranking kill. Still, Blue Suns mercs continued to pour out of the base, and their dwindling ammunition was beginning to put hesitation into Shepard's words.

Garrus turned to him, yelling as well. "Tarak's the only one left! I can't see why he'd keep throwing his men away though, he's got to show himself so—" his words were cut off by the loud explosion tearing into the front wall of the base. Looking back over cover after having dove into it, the pair saw a huge gunship approaching, it's loudspeaker blaring over the gunfire below.

" _It's over, Archangel! You're not walking out of this alive, I'll see to it personally!"_ The gunship swung around to a side window, unloading troops into the windows of the ground floor. Shepard and the salarian rushed to clear them out, while the other human stayed with him. She knelt beside him now, in cover, and they alternated firing. Her submachine gun was tearing mercs apart, even at this range, and Garrus couldn't help but appreciate her brutal efficiency. He spoke loudly to her as they fired.

"You're pretty good with that thing; don't suppose we've ever met before?" He wouldn't have been able to hear it over the gunfire, but he could see she was laughing before she responded.

"Doubt it, Archangel. Though stories about you sure manage to get around. I've only been here a few months, and you'd think you're some kind of hero the way they talk about you."

It was his turn to laugh as he swung out and sniped off two mercs. "Heroes don't get trapped in situations like these." She glanced over at him while her rounds tore through another merc.

"Sure they do, that's how you know the heroes from the rest." He smiled and fired alongside her. She moved to the left, coming around the edge of the couch as she made her way up to the edge to throw a grenade. Garrus saw the gunship move into view of the window, and his eyes went wide. She saw the gunship as well, but too late, and as she ran back to cover, Tarak let fly a rocket towards her fleeing form. Garrus' mind went through the situation in an instant, and he came to an inevitable conclusion with a soft sigh. _Time to be a hero again._ Standing from cover, he rushed toward her as fast as he could, tossing his rifle onto the couch and reaching out to her as he closed.

Garrus reached the human just in time, wrapping his arms around her and heaving to throw her back behind cover. As he had planned, the motion spun his body so that his back, the thickest part of his armor, faced the incoming blast. He had not, however, accounted for the mass amounts of explosives attacked to the rocket. The blast sent him careening forward, the explosion large enough to reach the sides of his face, searing the flesh there as his body slammed against a far wall, crumpling to the floor. His vision clouded, but he saw her rush to him, dragging him back behind her cover as the gunship laid down suppressing machine gun fire. He could hear her muffled yelling to him as darkness crept in on him.

"Archangel! Archangel, can you hear me?"

* * *

The countdown on the omni-tool dwindled down to zero, and Serra took her eyes off of it, swinging her gaze instead over to her sisters, huddled asleep in the corner. She checked the camera feed again, the room was empty, it had been empty since the moment Alex had left, and while she was happy at the thought of leaving their small hideaway, that fact gave her pause. She was young, not stupid. Reaching forward, she unlatched the handle that kept them locked in and slid the door aside slowly and quietly, constantly watching her sisters for any sign of waking. Seeing none, she continued until there was a crack wide enough to slip out of. The white light of the room burned her eyes, and she closed them to slits for a moment as she closed the door again.

Turning, she opened her eyes slowly as they adjusted; crossing the room to the crate Daeva had opened two days ago. Reaching inside, she removed the false bottom and took out the items Alex had left for her. She clipped the small personal shield generator to her belt, pulled the long coat over her shoulders, and tucked the small pistol into the back of her pants, under the coat. Tying her shoulder-length brown hair back, she put the lid back on the container and moved toward the door. Cracking it slightly, she looked down the empty hallway. Seeing no one, she stalked down it, towards the main living area. Gunfire resounded and Serra tensed, her hand immediately going to the pistol and bringing it forward. Alex had showed her how to use it, and while she didn't intend to fight anyone, she wanted to see how they were doing. Curiosity getting the better of her, she inched forward and peered around the corner.

* * *

"Mordin, to your left!" Shepard swung around cover as the salarian sent a ball of fiery plasma hurtling into a Blue Suns merc. The man caught it full in the face, screaming and flipping backwards over a couch as he flailed to extinguish the flames. Putting a couple rounds into his partner standing beside him, Shepard stood from cover, all enemies neutralized. He turned to head back to the stairca—

"Shepard, on your left!" Mordin's cry came too late, and as Shepard turned the merc was already upon him. Panicking, Shepard thumbed his rifle to full automatic as he brought it to bear on the man, and hammered the trigger. He hadn't enough time, though, and the man's shields continued to absorb the impact of all his bullets. By the time they shattered, the merc had a knife flying towards Shepard's neck. John rocked to the side, but he knew it wouldn't be enough, and braced himself for the pain.

Blood sprayed from the side of the man's head, and Shepard's eyes widened as his would-be assailant slumped off him to the side, falling to the floor and twitching slightly as he quickly bled out onto the floor. His gaze following the bullet's trajectory, Shepard looked toward the base floor hallway and saw a young girl brandishing a light pistol, the barrel still smoking from the single round she'd fired. Her eyes were wide, and Shepard could see her hands trembling as he calmly approached her. Her eyes latched onto him, and he held his hands out in a defensive gesture, slowing his advance as he spoke.

"Hey, it's alright. We're the good guys. I, ah…I suppose I owe you one for that shot. Saved me a world of hurt, kid." Her eyes stayed wide, her breath quick, her shaky grip on the pistol tight, and he continued, halting his approach. "We're here to help Archangel. My name is Commander Shepard, this is Doctor Solus," he gestured behind him to Mordin, who made a small waving gesture to the girl, "Do you have a name?" Silence hung between them for awhile, and then the girl closed her eyes, relaxing slightly as she lowered her pistol. Opening them again, she returned her gaze to Shepard.

"Serra Vanin. Archangel saved me and my sisters from the gangs. We've been hiding out in a room back there, but I wanted to see how things were going. Have…have you seen Alex?" The man tilted his head in confusion, and she lowered her eyes. Alex must have been one of Garrus' men.

He slowly placed a hand on her shoulder, and when she didn't flinch he spoke quietly. "Garrus..ah, Archangel, is still alive, he's with one of my team on the top floor. I think for now we should get you back to yo—" a huge explosion rocked the second floor, and all three of them turned sharply to see it. Shepard snapped his gaze back down as he felt movement under his hand, and by the time he realized the situation Serra was sprinting up the steps to the second floor. "Shit…" he mumbled softly, and motioned for Mordin to follow as he gave chase.

* * *

Kasumi's mind raced, and she frantically worked at her omni-tool, applying medi-gel to Archangel's wounds to try to stabilize him. Her eyes were still wide; the idiot had raced out to meet her and thrown her out of the way so he could take the blast instead. Why? He didn't even **know** her. She tapped her comm link, calling Shepard.

"Shepard! Archangel's been hit, he's down and bleeding. I've tried to stabilize him, but it isn't exactly my area of expertise."

Mordin's voice came back through the comm to her. "On my way, Kasumi. Human child running ahead of us, very headstrong, possibly in great danger."

Kasumi's eyes lifted to the doorway just as the young girl rushed in, her eyes immediately finding Garrus. "Archangel!" She cried as she rushed toward him, diving as the gunship started firing again. Kasumi held her back from the turian's body, and the girl squirmed, fighting her every step of the way. Shepard and Mordin entered the room, rushing for cover. Mordin ran over to the pair of them, immediately scanning Archangel and analyzing the situation. Shepard…she looked up and over with a gasp…he was running straight at the gunship! A sharp pain in her gut brought her attention back to the girl as she tried to hold her back. She uttered words of comfort, reassurances she knew wouldn't stop the pain, and held on for dear life.

* * *

_Should have shocked the bastard,_ John thought angrily as he slid into cover, drawing the attention of the gunship's pilot. _Should have grabbed the damn electro-tool and rammed it into his back._ Shaking his head, John flipped his weapon over to armor-piercing rounds and leaned up to fire, only getting a few shots off before being driven back down by a hail of heavy fire. He had chosen to spare the batarian technician; after all, the man was just fixing a ship, just following orders. Still, he'd been a merc, and John made a mental note to not try and be a saint when it came to men who would kill him for money.

Rolling to the right, he came up over a different piece of cover and fired at the tail of the gunship. One advantage to having spent time talking to the mechanic was that he had gotten to see where the fuel tanks were. Armor-plated alcove, just under the tail. Unfortunately, this pilot was no idiot. As soon as the tail started taking damage, he swung it aside, firing upon John again and forcing the man into cover again. Looking around frantically, he spotted Garrus' rifle laying on a nearby couch. Reaching up and over the back of the piece of furniture, he grabbed the sniper rifle and pulled it to himself. This idea was crazy, but maybe just crazy enough.

Sliding back into his original cover spot, he readied a concussive round on the assault rifle while enabling incendiary ammunition on the sniper. He'd have to be quick, push the cybernetics to the test. Closing his eyes, trying not to think about his feelings on the machinery inside him at this particular moment, he grabbed the rifle and popped out of cover, unloading the full clip into the gunship's tail. The armor plating began to quiver, and he let fly the concussive round. The tanks' protective casing fell off completely, and the ship's pilot swerved hard, knowing John's intention. John, anticipating this action, tossed the rifle aside and dove for his other cover spot, where the sniper rifle already lay. Scooping it up and training his eye to the scope in one fluid motion, he fired a single round. It pierced the fuel containers and set them ablaze, lighting the entire level of Omega under an orange and yellow corona of exploding metal and ammunition. Admiring the view for only a moment, Shepard dropped the rifle and rushed back to Garrus.

"How bad is it, Mordin?"

The salarian doctor took a deep breath before speaking. "Not good, Shepard. Vital signs wavering, severe tissue damage to right side of face. Burn marks, tissue scarring inevitable. Tracheal openings singed from blast, breathing shallow. Need medical facilities and assistance of doctor Chakwas immediately."

Shepard turned away, tapping his comm link. "Joker, get the Normandy to my location **now**. We've got a severe injury…and it's Garrus."

" _Ah, shit, okay yea Commander I'm bringing her in now. EDI give me full manual on thrusters, we need to move fast."_

His pilot's voice cut out, and Shepard turned back, placing a hand on Garrus' slowly breathing chest. "Just hang in there, Garrus, we'll get you out of here."

Kasumi shook her head softly. "He…he took that hit for me."

"What?" Shepard turned his head to regard her as she held back the less-animated but still clearly unhappy girl.

"That gunship fired the rocket at **me**. He threw me out of the way, left cover to do it to." Her expression of confusion changed to one of outright shock when Shepard chuckled at her sentence.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just…" he tried to contain himself as he looked at Garrus, lying on the ground. "He always did like to play the hero."

Her words were a whisper. "Well, he's certainly earned the title today, Shep."

Nodding, he turned to the girl being held by Kasumi. "Serra, Serra calm down. Doctor Solus is one of the best in the galaxy, Archangel is in good hands, okay?" She met his gaze levelly and then nodded softly, stepping away as Kasumi released her. "Good. Now, you said he helped you and your sisters…are they still here?"

She nodded and spoke, her voice quiet yet strong, a strength Shepard hadn't seen from most adults. "Yes, follow me."


	9. Message Received

***Author's Note***  
Little bit of cleanup, little bit of proper Garrus reunion here, and  
one thing I really wanted to make sure of is that I get Miranda **right**.

Portraying her as a rabid xenophobe just isn't my style. She's a human  
woman, with real feelings and real indecision of her own to attend to.  
She can think of plenty of good reasons why she believes in Cerberus, but  
blind xenophobia isn't one of them. I think her character will be one  
I'll have a lot of fun transforming over the course of this piece.

Haetrom on deck, then a trip back to the Citadel! Next chapter's going  
to be loads of fun! XD

* * *

**Message Received**

John stared down at the deck below him as he leaned against the bulkhead, arms folded across his chest as he replayed the previous few hours in his head. Joker had brought the Normandy in a full minute ahead of EDI's best arrival time estimates, steadying her over the bridge that he, Mordin, and Kasumi had come across to get to Garrus. Miranda and Jacob had come over on the Kodiak shuttle to evac them, and while the woman had greeted John with the same icy visage she always held, he was surprised at her speed and care when moving Garrus onto the shuttle.

They'd come back and moved Garrus to the med bay, then been quickly showed the exit by Mordin as he and doctor Chakwas got to work. Shepard had stood outside, staring at the closed door for a full thirty seconds before Miranda of all people approached him. She had told him that **she** would file the mission report to the Illusive Man, and that he should rest for a moment after the day's events. Her audible concern for him almost put him on his ass, but he had recovered enough to thank her and walk away. Going to his cabin had seemed a bad idea at the time, though, and so he had found his way to the Conference Room, seeking some time alone. A sharp static crackling brought his attention up and forward, to where Kasumi decloaked, sitting cross-legged on the end of the long table.

"Hey..." she began, her voice hesitant. "Guess I wasn't the only one looking for some space." He nodded his assent, and she spoke again. "I-I can leave if you like, I don't want to bother you."

He shook his head softly before speaking. "No, Kasumi, it's alright. Just didn't feel like going back to Deck One at the moment." She nodded, but her eyes were trained on the door. "Something wrong?"

She chuckled. "Something? Lots of things, Shep. I'm not used to watching teammates get taken out. The last time was..." she drifted off, her voice laden with sorrow before she composed herself and continued, "...especially difficult. But why did he do it? He didn't even know me."

John stepped forward, catching the woman's gaze as he moved. "Listen, Kasumi. Garrus was a top C-Sec agent, he was with me the entire time we fought Saren and his army of geth, and he managed to keep that small team operating against three different gangs on Omega for over a year until today. He's a brilliant tactician. Which means he would certainly have noticed that the armor you have on would be essentially useless against a rocket. He knew his would be able to take it, and he made a choice." She nodded softly, and he continued, lacing his words with sarcasm. "Or maybe he just did it for his reputation. Garrus always was one to admire a pretty woman."

The chuckle escaped her lips before she could hold it back, and he smiled. She looked up at him then, tears welling in her eyes, but her mouth turned upward in a soft smile. Wiping them away silently, she stood and nodded before speaking. "Thanks, Shep. I'm ah...I'm going to head to my room for a bit. It's been a long day." He nodded to her, and as the door shut behind her, he leaned his head back against the bulkhead. He'd be here until he heard something. Trying to let his mind wander, he thought about the old crew, the old faces, Tali... _Tali!_ His mind started and his eyes shot open as he quickly crossed to an empty chair at the table. Sitting down, he pulled up his omni-tool, opened his personal box, and began to compose a reply file. He had been on Omega shorter than he'd planned, and maybe he could still get a message to her. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

* * *

Lia stood slowly, balling a fist and kneading it into the small of her back as she looked down at the terminal for what must have been the hundredth time this hour. It's screen came to life, and as she waited for it to load from the main Citadel databases she whispered a soft prayer to the Ancestors. The console sprang to life at once, files and icons populating the holographic interface, and she allowed herself a soft hiss of victory. Turning away from the machine, she tapped her wrist comm link and spoke into it.

"Counselor Anderson, it's Lia'Vael. I've gotten your personal terminal back up and running, and it seems all the files and programs are still intact."

" _Excellent, Lia, you're a life saver,"_ his voice replied out of the comm link, and she couldn't help but beam with pride. " _Take the rest of the day off, you've earned it."_ She shuffled a little with nervousness. Aboard the Flotilla, no one left their post early. _Things are different here,_ she thought to herself with force, _you have to learn to work with other customs as well_.

"Thank you, Counselor, I will," she replied.

" _Good, have a good evening, and I'll see you tomorrow."_ The comm link cut out, and Lia looked up and around the human embassy with a soft sigh. Perhaps there had been a time when she'd have been happy to not be needed for the night, a time when she'd have gone back to their apartment and just collapsed into Jeff's arms... She wrapped her own arms around herself slowly as she _felt_ his absence, a feeling she'd never experienced before. Every moment like this had solidified in her mind what she'd thought she was unsure about before: she was definitely bonding with Jeff. The thought of him not being with her made her physically ache, and she tried to keep distracted as much as possible.

Leaving the embassy, she walked along the Presidium, trying fervently to avoid the harsh glares and whispered conversations she saw and heard in passing. Three hundred years, and still her people were treated as the scourge of the galaxy, beggars and thieves, not worth the words to insult. _Not everyone sees you that way, Lia'Vael_ , her thoughts reminded her, and she nodded. The Counselor, Jeff, Commander Shepard, these were humans who trusted her, who genuinely liked her, and for them she could ignore the rest.

Reaching their apartment, she pressed the access panel and watched as it opened to reveal their living space. She smiled as she looked directly through the doorway, to the far wall, and saw the simple tapestry she'd hung there. A soft gray fabric, inlaid with the combination of wide, curving lines and sharp, straight hatch-marks of Clan Vael. It reminded her of home, and she'd made it herself in the spare time she had. She hoped Jeff would like it. Entering the apartment, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a tube of nutrient paste out of the refrigerator before crossing to the living area and sitting on the couch, puling her legs up underneath her as she snapped the tube into the slot under her mask. She reached for the access remote and turned on the vidscreen.

" _...more proof of the ever-present danger in the Terminus, today, as a full-scale gang war breaks out on Omega. Rumors have it the turian vigilante Archangel was involved, and local surveillance footage confirms these claims."_ The image on the screen changed to an angular view of the front of what appeared to be a run-down warehouse. The view was partially obscured, probably by the building the camera was mounted on, and the image grainy. " _Archangel is seen here with the assistance of two humans and a salarian, destroying a gunship operated by the Blue Suns crime syndicate."_

Lia almost choked on the nutrient paste as the familiar likeness of Commander Shepard came onto the screen, firing out a second-floor window at the gunship. The image was grainy, though...certainly it couldn't be him...

" _Video footage is lost as the gunship's explosion destroyed the camera used to acquire it, but we have reason to believe Archangel is still alive and operating on Omega...On a lighter note, the disruption of the preaching Hanar on the Presidium was put to rest earli-"_ Lia switched off the vid-screen, sitting quietly for a long moment, her nutrient paste tube still held in her trembling hand.

_Omega_. Of all the places in the galaxy, Cerberus sent Shepard and Jeff to _Omega_? Her hand tightened unconsciously, and she swore as nutrient paste rushed into her mouth. Her eyes narrowed, she hated Cerberus more and more every day, and as if having to watch Jeff work for them wasn't bad enough, it seemed they were almost **trying** to get him killed. The shock of the thought hit her like a punch to the stomach, and she gripped it instinctively as tears came to her eyes.

She needed to talk to him, she needed to talk to him **now**.

* * *

" _Lieutenant Moreau, we have cleared the Omega station and are about to reach the mass relay. Where would you like me to plot a course?"_

Joker bristled as he replied. "First of all, I'm **obviously** not in the Alliance military anymore, so cut the 'Lieutenant' garbage. Second, **I** will be happy to plot a course wherever Shepard wants. Did the Illusive Man hire me to fly this ship or just sit here and look pretty?"

" _Cerberus does not base personnel acquisition on aesthetic factors, Mr. Moreau."_ Joker buried his face in his hand as the 'genius' AI failed, yet again, to understand simple sarcasm. He tapped the ship-wide and hailed Shepard's comm link.

" _Hey Commander, we're approaching the mass relay, where did you want to go?"_

Shepard's voice came back tired and slightly annoyed. " _Hell, let's go to Purgatory and pick up this 'Jack'. I'm in the mood for an easy pick-up mission right about now. You?"_

Joker laughed softly. "Yea, sounds peachy, Commander. You know, since you never let me come shoot bad guys with you anyway."

The Commander's laugh echoed back through the device. " _Well I don't want you to think I'm excluding you, Joker. Why don't you lead the next mission; I'll stay here and read a book, maybe learn origami from Kasumi. I promise to make you a nice paper crane by the time you get back._ "

"Roger that, Commander, I'll load up my assault rifle and get out the heavy armor! ETA to Purgatory station six hours, thirty-four minutes. Bridge out." Joker began to plot the jump when his omni-tool chimed indicating an incoming video relay. Knowing the only person who would request one of those, he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration at what he would have to do. "EDI?" he asked softly.

" _Yes, Mr. Moreau?"_ Joker sighed audibly.

"Could you plot a course for Purgatory station? I ah...have a personal thing to attend to."

" _Certainly, Mr. Moreau."_

Joker stood and made his way to the elevator, pressing Deck Four. Since the incident with the Cerberus soldier, he'd been scouring the ship maps to find a place he could talk to Lia in private, and he'd been overjoyed to find this one. Making for Engineering, he veered off, taking a pair of staircases down to the underbelly of the ship. The soft red glow of backup lighting bathed all the metal component parts in an eerie light, but he pulled up the chair he'd stowed down here and accepted the comm request, seeing a familiar face spring to life above his wrist.

"Hey you," he began with a smile, "how are things on the Citadel?"

" _Hello,_ nehya _, things are...alright I suppose. I just saw a news report about violence in the Terminus and..."_ she trailed off before speaking again, _"Were...were you and the Commander just on Omega?"_

He started at her words before speaking. "Yea, we were. But how did you know?"

" _News reports, like I said."_ A short pause entered the conversation, and then she spoke in a rush. " _I'm sorry, Jeff. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be hailing you at some random hour just because I'm worried, or because I'm scared. We have a time that we agreed on to speak with each other, and I should have stuck to it. It's just...Counselor Anderson gave me the rest of the day off for fixing his terminal and I came back to the apartment but it's so empty, I just...I can't..."_

"Hey, woah, woah, calm down, Lia," he whispered reassuringly to her. "Tell me what's bothering you. I mean I'm no fan of the places we're going either, but I'm nice and safe up here on the ship. Shepard's the one taking all the risks, hell I'm a glorified chauffeur!" She chuckled out a laugh amidst her soft crying, and he allowed himself a small smile as he continued. "What's bothering you, Lia?"

She raised her eyes back to his and spoke hesitantly. " _I...we're...I'm bonding with you, Jeff. Quarians are...different about relationships, though I imagine you've realized that by now. It's just, well it's hard without you around. More so than I think it would be for...well for another human. I'm sorry, I don't mean to bother you with it."_

"Hey, cut that out. I'm here to be bothered by you. It's what I do." He gave her a smile, and she tilted her head in kind. "Tell you what, I remember Shepard talking about seeing if the Council would help him against the Collector's, maybe he's interested in going to the Citadel to speak with them. The last thing he'll want to do is contact them open-range from a Cerberus vessel, so maybe a trip to the Citadel is already in his plans." Her eyes snapped up to his, and he knew he'd struck gold.

" _Really? You'd...you'd talk to him about it? I mean not just for me, please don't do it just for me. If he has a reason to be here though...I would love to see you again._ "

"I'm sure he'll have a reason to go, but I'll see if I can't talk to him about it."

Her mood improved after that, and they spent the next hour talking about what Anderson was doing, and what Shepard was doing, life on the Flotilla, life on the Normandy, and everything in between. When he finally closed the comm link, he sat back in the chair and sighed. He didn't know much about the quarian bonding she was talking about, but he knew how he felt about her, and he knew that he wasn't happy with the current situation. He needed to talk to Shepard, about a lot of things, but until Garrus was out of the med bay, he knew the Commander's thoughts would be occupied. Returning to the helm, he sat down with an exasperated sigh.

EDI's synthesized voice broke the silence. " _Is everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Moreau?"_

Joker stared out the front viewport, at the soft blue glow of FTL travel that enveloped the ship. "Not right now, EDI. But I have a feeling they're picking up."

" _I do not understand your meaning, Mr. Moreau."_

"I know you don't. And that's the point."

* * *

Commander John Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, lay drooling onto the top of a table as he slept. The soft _woosh_ of the door opening startled him awake, and he quickly wiped his face and eyes as he looked up to see doctor Chakwas enter the room. Standing, he crossed to her weary form and spoke.

"Doctor? How is he?"

She smiled softly as she spoke. "Been keeping a vigil, have we? He'll be fine, Commander. The damage was extensive, but doctor Solus and I were able to reconstruct the muscle tissue. There will be scarring, quite a lot of it, and we needed to use a small metal plate to hold most of it in place, but he'll regain full functionality." She paused for a moment, then added, "Doctor Solus was a pleasure to work with, Commander. He truly is a genius."

John smiled. "Good, glad we picked him up then. How long do you imagine Garrus will be down for?"

"Oh I'd say at least three or four days. He's going to be off his feet for at least that long."

" _I wouldn't bet on those words, doctor Chakwas_." Shepard's head snapped back to the doorway, where his best friend stood leaning against the frame. The right side of his face was a mess of scar tissue, still-healing wounds, and a thin metal plate, but he still managed to flash a confident smile.

"You! Get back to the med bay and lie down! I don't know how the hell you're up and walking around with all the sedatives we gave you, but you need to **rest** , Garrus!"

The turian shook his head as he stood and entered the room. "Sorry, doctor. You'll have to sedate me again if you're looking to stop me from giving this bastard the greeting he **really** deserved." Garrus stepped forward and placed two bottles on the Conference Room table. One bottle of human liquor, and one of turian. Shepard smiled and laughed, Chakwas fumed.

" **Liquor** , Garrus? Right after intense surgery?"

The turian winked at her. "No better time!" She turned to Shepard, looking for assistance.

"Will it kill him, Carol?" Shepard asked the question gently, but she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at him as if he'd asked if the sky was purple.

"No, Commander. It won't kill him. But it's hardly a **wise** course of action."

Shepard chuckled as he responded. "Alcohol rarely is, doctor."

His comment earned a small grin of humor from her, which she quickly concealed again as she shook her head, leaving the room muttering something about _men and their idiocy_. Shepard turned back to Garrus, who had picked up both bottles again and waved them temptingly in front of him. Laughing, he clapped the turian on the shoulder.

"Glad to see you haven't changed a bit. But not here, let's head up to Deck One."

Garrus chuckled. "Well if you insist, but ah...you might want to get **that** first..." Garrus gestured with his head to behind where John stood, and he turned around to see the small puddle of drool he'd left on the table. The turian laughed as soon as he saw recognition in his friends eyes, a gesture that quickly turned to moaning in pain as he stretched the bandaging on his face. Shepard wiped the table quickly with a shirt sleeve, and then moved past Garrus, grabbing the bottle of human liquor as he did.

"Oh suck it up. You're a turian, remember?"

* * *

Miranda Lawson sat in her office on Deck Two, going over the mission report she'd just filed. Doctor Solus and Archangel acquired; Archangel with severe trauma, but recovered, identity confirmed as Garrus Vakarian, old teammate of Shepard's. She filed it alongside her report from Freedom's Progress, and opened that first report to double-check its information, as was a habit of hers. She cringed slightly at Shepard's collaborating report which had lightly implied her insubordinate nature throughout the mission. The Illusive Man had not been happy to read that. " _Shepard is in charge of this mission, Miranda_ ," he had said to her. " _You are to take command_ _ **only**_ _if he somehow is incapacitated or decides to completely abandon Cerberus. As long as we have him on this ship, you follow his orders to a point."_

She had decided then to stop butting heads with Shepard. She would certainly continue to voice her opinion, but if everyone else on this ship could put aside whatever feelings they had for other species for the sake of the mission, so could she. Besides, with the Collectors abducting human colonies and in all likelihood working for the Reapers, she had enough on her plate to worry about.

Continuing through the report, she noticed an overarching theme to the entire mission. Shepard had saved the quarian commanding officer twice, putting himself in harm's way to do so. He'd tried his best to accommodate her wishes in any conversation, and had actively taken her side against theirs when they came to a crossroads. Some would see that as simply being diplomatic, and she **had** been a member of his old team, but there was something else to it...Closing the report, Miranda opened up her terminal's private channel and hailed the Illusive Man. A minute passed before the chat commenced, and text appeared in her terminal's display.

" _Miranda, I trust everything is going well?"_

" **Yes, sir. I recently filed the report on operations on Omega. Both candidates recruited. It should be arriving shortly."**

" _Excellent work, Ms. Lawson. I take it there's a different reason for this hail then?"_

" **Yes, sir there is. In keeping with what we spoke about after the Freedom's Progress mission, I would like to submit a formal request for tracking."**

" _A tracking request? On who?"_

Miranda looked back at her report before replying. " **Tali'Zorah vas Neema, a quarian aboard the Migrant Fleet."**

A long pause hung in the chat window before the reply came. _"I've forwarded the information to our tracking experts. As I'm sure you're aware given our history with the Fleet, on-board operations are next to impossible. I'll have our hackers working on getting to their databases, but these are quarians we're talking about. It won't be easy."_

" **I understand, sir. I feel that if we were able to inform Shepard of any situations that arise involving Tali'Zorah, it may increase his trust in our operations. She seems...close to him.** "

" _I understand, Miranda. I'll forward you anything we find as soon as I hear it. Until then, keep helping Shepard find others to fight with him."_

" **Understood, sir. Normandy out."**

She sat back in her chair as the comm link closed on its own. Shepard had one former team member back already, and whether she liked it or not, more aliens would be coming on board in the coming weeks. She closed her eyes, trying to push away the irritation, and focus on the mission. Maybe if she had something to distract her, something that used to put her mind to rest... _No_ , she pushed the thought away. Or tried to, she could never truly get **him** out of her head. She leaned back, staring at the ceiling as she thought about the past. She'd ended it, out of fear of what it could be, she'd been the one to hurt him. He wouldn't want her back. He seemed content enough to spend his time in the Armory with his weapons, why couldn't she just let it lie?

Slamming a hand on the desk in front of her, she forced herself to stop thinking about the past, deciding instead to bury herself in work, an ages-old human solution to a millennium-old human problem. She brought up a new mission report file and began filling in the preliminary details.

_Dossier #3: Jack._

* * *

"Christ, Garrus. Sounds like you had quite the team." John smiled approvingly as he took another drink from the glass in front of him. His friend sat on the couch across from him, drinking his own glass slowly as he spoke.

"Yea, they were a great group of guys. They were my family after I got to Omega. And we were betrayed by one of our own..." He trailed off, and John cocked an eyebrow, the unspoken invitation to talk sent. "Sidonis, a fellow turian, and my go-to guy for weapons. He sold us out to the Blue Suns: our location, our defenses, the people with me...everything. He told me he needed help moving some new merchandise out in the warehouses, but by the time I got there to meet him all I found was his 'apology' note. The Suns relocated him, but I don't know where. I had planned to take Tarak's omni-tool and find out but...I wasn't really in any shape to do that."

John set his glass down softly. "I'm sorry, Garrus. If I had known..."

The turian waved away his apology. "You couldn't have. Besides, I'll find some way to track him down. And when I do, he's going to pay for what he's done. Ten good men died because of him, and I intend to see that debt repaid in full." John could only nod at his friend's rage, sure that he would feel the same in Garrus' position.

"Let me know what I can do to help."

Garrus chuckled softly, unconsciously touching his tender cheek as he did. "Glad to see you haven't changed either. Still taking on any cause for your friends, still performing the impossible. But...Cerberus, Shepard? You remember all that twisted shit we shut down together?"

John nodded again. "Yea, I remember. I made it clear that I'm calling the shots. Cerberus is funding my mission because the Collectors are targeting human colonies, but just like with Rear Admiral Mikhailovich two years ago, I'm bringing aboard whoever I want, and I'm running the show. Though to speak with my XO, you wouldn't think it..." he trailed off, and suddenly remembered what Tali had said on Freedom's Progress. "Tali told me you brought her back to the Migrant Fleet after the attack."

Garrus nodded. John had told him about the rebuilding and Freedom's Progress before he had asked about the team Garrus had built, but he'd left out the bit in the med unit. For Tali's sake really, he'd told himself. She'd probably have been embarrassed to find out he'd spoken about that with **anyone** , so he'd held his tongue.

"Yea. I wanted to be sure she made it back safely. I felt like...it's what you would have wanted."

John nodded. "It is. Thank you, Garrus."

The turian nodded and seemed about to speak again when EDI's voice entered the cabin.

" _I am sorry to interrupt you, Commander, but Mr. Moreau wishes me to inform you that we will be docking with the Purgatory station in approximately one hour's time."_

"Thanks, EDI."

Garrus stood as he spoke. "Well I guess that's my hint to leave. I'm going to head down to the main battery, see what I can do about the guns on this thing. Let's do this again sometime."

Shepard nodded. "Definitely. I'll talk to you later, Garrus." As the turian left, Shepard called back out to EDI. "EDI, tell Zaeed and Miranda to get prepped and meet me by the airlock in forty minutes."

" _Understood, Commander. Logging you out."_

* * *

The elevator opened on Deck Three, and Garrus stepped out, looking down at his omni-tool. The blast had fried its circuitry, and he'd have to replace it soon, but for now he was just trying to get the damn thing to turn **on**. Not looking as he stepped out, he almost bumped into someone before backing up and raising his eyes.

"Sorry..." he trailed off as he saw who it was. Light armor, hood up, that single line of color on her bottom lip. "Oh, hey. I was wondering if you were with Shepard or just a local helping out." The woman's mouth was open as she visibly surveyed the damage to his face, working to find words to say, and he spoke again to buy her more time. "Yea, it's not pretty, but if you want me to let you in on a little secret, I wasn't really much to look at **before** the explosion, either." He smiled as he continued, "Plus I think scars are attractive. Right? Or is that a older trend I've missed out on?"

"I'm sorry," she spoke at last. "If I hadn't moved out, you..."

"...wouldn't have been able to take a nap and let Shepard do my work for me?" he finished sarcastically. "You did me a favor!" She tried not to laugh but couldn't help it, and he clapped a three-fingered hand on her shoulder. "Seriously, don't worry about it miss..."

"Kasumi Goto," she replied. "It's nice to meet you, Archangel."

He coughed in surprise. "Ah, please, just Garrus is fine. Archangel is...well _was_...a name they gave me. I didn't ask for it but...it seemed to stick." Memories of Sensat came back and he repressed them soundly. She nodded.

"Alright then, Garrus. I'm heading up to the Armory, but I'll talk to you soon?"

He nodded as he stepped away, allowing her access. "Sure, sounds good. I'll be in the main battery if you need me."

She nodded, and as the doors closed called back to him. "And Garrus?" He turned to face her again. "Scars are **definitely** still 'in'." He laughed as the doors closed, grabbing at his bandaging again as he swore and turned to the hallway that led to the battery.

_Garrus,_ he thought to himself with a smile as he walked, _you've still got it, my friend..._

* * *

" _Tali, is everything alright?_ " Amys' voice came through on their private channel, something that Tali had become quite used to having open over the past few weeks. She smiled behind her visor at her friend's concern, and replied as she looked down at her omni-tool for the tenth time in an hour.

"Yes, Amys, everything is fine, thank you. I'm just...waiting for a message, is all." Across the cabin, her friend tilted her head in response, a smile if Tali had ever seen one.

" _He'll reply to you."_

"I know he will, I just feel bad, taking so long to respond."

" _Well once he gets a message from his favorite quarian girl, I'm sure he'll forget all about how long it's been since the last one."_ Tali smiled at her words, and her heart skipped a beat as she loaded the new file that had appeared in the private box.

_Tali,_

_Sorry for the long wait, it's been crazy around here. The Illusive Man offered to fund a mission against the Collectors, and while I hate agreeing to anything Cerberus-related, I took his offer. I made it absolutely clear that this is my ship, however, and had all listening devices removed from my quarters on Deck One. Just the thought that he'd put them there is infuriating, but I'm doing the best I can to make do. Chakwas and Joker are here, and I've picked up a thief named Kasumi. I think you'd like her, she kind of reminds me of you in that quirky-yet-charming-yet-deadly kind of way._

_We were just on Omega picking up a turian vigilante named Archangel. The people there have practically been singing his praises while he's been taking out the gangs that run wild. We got there just in time to help him, and imagine my surprise when the great Archangel is none other than Garrus Vakarian! He took a pretty bad injury in the fight, but Chakwas and doctor Mordin Solus are working on him, so I have high hopes. I'll let you know when I hear anything._

_I was glad to hear about your absence request. Please be safe out there, Tali; the Normandy's waiting impatiently for you to come back. And so am I._

_~ John_

The smile refused to leave her face as their ship hit the relay, sending them into geth space. She silently thanked the Ancestors once again for bringing him back to her, and opened her eyes again to see Amys looking back at her.

"You ready for this, Tali?" The soldier spoke with conviction, but Tali could hear the hesitation in her voice as well. She remembered her favorite line of the message she'd just read. _And so am I._ When she spoke, her voice was hard, determined.

"Yes, Amys. Let's get these readings and get out. I have an impatient captain waiting to hear from me. If we take too long, he may come to get me himself."

Amys laughed. "Keelah, _let's hope not, for the **geth's** sake."_ The two shared a laugh over their private channel as the ship shot forward beyond the Veil.


	10. The Price of Victory

***Author's Note***  
To answer some concerns from the last chapter: Yes, I meant for the children  
to be absent. I wanted the focus on Garrus rather than them. Perhaps I should  
have written a line or two so everyone didn't think I went all _Home Alone_ on them,  
but meh, you live and learn.

Also, I do plan to use more than three in a squad, as  
you'll see evidenced in this chapter. On Omega, Shepard didn't entirely feel comfortable  
with Miranda yet, and so saw no reason to take her with him. Their butting heads is  
quickly coming to an end, but like two circling lions, neither wants to show any  
sign of weakness, or compromise when they don't have to. As to the fun guessing game  
of "Which Quarian Goes Where?" (probably a Whack-A-Mole derivation), the answer, as  
my favorite author the late Robert Jordan would say, is RAFO. (Read and find out! XD)

Thanks again for all the reviews, adds, PM's, and general commentary. You all are  
simply fantastic!

* * *

**The Price of Victory**

"An easy mission! I said I wanted an easy fucking pick-up mission!" Shepard yelled over the gunfire as he unloaded into the next unfortunate bastard to enter the room. Kuril had betrayed them, and now Shepard found himself tearing through the man's personal army to confront him and take Jack. Miranda nodded furiously in agreement, and Zaeed just cackled as he fired into the FENRIS mechs approaching.

"Come on, Shepard, you really expect **any** mission we get sent on to be a breeze? The Illusive Man's going to make sure you're worth every goddamn penny he put into you!." His laughter continued, and Shepard scowled. They stopped the troops and moved forward, tapping the access panel on the far wall. The door opened to reveal an empty observation room, a single terminal on the far side. Miranda approached it and began to access the prisoner lockdown controls, when a man in a white coat rushed from the corner.

"Stay away from that console, you bitch!" He rushed at her, raising his pistol before she had time to turn to him. Shepard fired off a series of three short bursts from his rifle, all catching the man in the chest and flinging him back into the corner he'd run in from. Miranda turned to him, a look of pure shock on her face slowly dissolving into a cruel smile.

"Finally coming around to like me, Commander?" she grinned as she spoke.

Shepard shrugged as he popped the rifle's thermal clip, jamming a new one in it's place. "Please. I just **really** hate doing paperwork."

Miranda laughed as she turned back to the console, overriding the security lockdown, and unlocking the door to their left. "There. The security lockdown is lifted. The Normandy is free to leave whenever we like. And..." she paused as she observed the prison complex layout hovering over the terminal, "Warden Kuril should be here, two rooms ahead."

Shepard nodded. "Good, lets go end this. I'll take a rain check on going down aboard **another** ship in flames."

* * *

Garrus continued to fumble with his omni-tool as the doors to the main battery slid open, and he stepped inside. He'd been analyzing the new Normandy's weapons systems, and while they were top-notch for a human para-military organization like Cerberus, they were no Turian Special Forces cannons. Slipping the armband that held the omni-tool's processor off of his wrist, he moved to set it down on the stack of crates in the battery and gave a start. A young girl was sitting cross-legged on top of the crates, looking up at him. Not just any young girl...her face was too familiar...

"You...ah...Serra?" the young girl nodded, and he sighed heavily, sitting down on the crate next to her. "I, ah...I'm sorry about what happened back there. I never meant for you and your sisters to...shit, your sisters! Are they alright?"

"They're fine. Commander Shepard helped me get them out of the hiding place Alex had made for us while they waited for this ship to come pick you up."

"Where are they now?" Garrus looked around as he asked.

"They're back out there," she said, nodding towards the deck outside the battery. "A woman named Kelly said we could use her bed. It's small, but I let Myra and Daeva sleep there. I usually watch the stars from the Observation Room."

Garrus' heart ached to hear the girl speak. Her voice simultaneously carried wonder and fascination, as when she mentioned the Normandy or watching the stars; and at the same time the steeled resolve of someone who had seen far more than they ever should have. She was a slaver victim and a war veteran, stuffed into a thirteen-year-old body.

"How did it happen, Archangel?" Her eyes held his with pain and fury, and though tears welled in them, she didn't sob or shake, and her voice did not waver. "How did they know where we were? How did they kill Alex?"

Garrus' heart wrenched with grief and anger, and he looked into her eyes as he spoke. She deserved that much. "Sidonis betrayed us. He told the gangs where we were, what defenses we had, how many people we had...everything."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "But...why? He was...he was always so kind to us. Why would he do it?"

Garrus did look away then, across the room to the far wall, as if he could bore a hole in it just by staring at it hard enough. "Money? Safety? Cowardice? I don't know for sure what they offered him, but ten good men died because of him. And if it weren't for Ripper, a few innocent girls would have too. He turned back to her, placing his arm delicately around her shoulders. She leaned into him, but her eyes stayed fixated, boring into the wall as his had. When she spoke, it was in a cold whisper that startled even the turian she leaned on.

"I want him to die. I want him to pay for what he did to Alex...to all of us."

Garrus squeezed her closer. "So do I, kid...So do I." He looked down at her face, and she brought her gaze up to meet his as he continued. "But Alex wanted you to go to Earth. He knew you wouldn't be safe on Omega with or without him, and I'm not about to betray his last wishes by keeping you aboard a warship. As soon as I can, I'll get you three back to Earth and somewhere safe, alright?" She frowned, but nodded, understanding it was the best course of action.

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him, holding her gaze intently as he spoke.

"And I **promise** you, Serra. I **will** find Sidonis. And he **will** pay dearly for what he's done."

She nodded, the tears gone, the sadness replaced with cold fury that burned through her tiny irises. And Garrus shuddered.

* * *

In the hallway outside the main battery, Kasumi Goto sat slumped against the bulkhead. She'd brought with her a small figurine that Garrus had had on him when they evacuated from Omega. Kasumi had grabbed it as it had threatened to slip out of his pocket, out the door of the shuttle, and was coming to return it, secretly hoping it may give her something to talk to him about, but upon hearing the girl's voice, she'd stopped just shy of the door and pressed against the wall.

As she'd listened to Garrus tell the girl how they had been betrayed, and how much his team had meant to him, she had slowly slumped down the wall until now, where she sat cloaked but seated on the deck outside the door. She had had enough trauma watching him **almost** die after saving her life, how must he feel having seen **ten** of his best friends perish?

She looked down at the figurine in her hand. Would he really want another reminder of that? A physical reminder of all he had lost on that hell-hole of a space station? Shaking her head softly, she stood and walked away from his door, back to her quarters. Reaching under her bed, she pulled out an old wooden box, an heirloom of her family's, and the only thing she had left to remind herself of where she had come from. Opening the lid, she placed the figurine gently inside, and closed the box.

He may not want a reminder of what had happened down there, but she did. He had saved her life on Omega, and whatever he wanted to be called now, in that one terrifying moment, he had been an Archangel to her.

* * *

"Begin research log. This is Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya, chief engineer of this strike team, initiating a research log for our mission to the planet Haestrom in the Dholen system." Tali continued to speak into her helmet's recording system as their shuttle touched down on Haestrom's surface. Her vocal emitters were disabled, so she spoke only to herself as she recorded the beginning of their expedition. "Haestrom is deep within geth space, and as such this mission is classified extremely dangerous. Possibility of encountering geth activity is high, and we have a contingent of twelve marines plus Squad Leader Kal'Reegar vas Neema and myself."

Amys stepped out of the shuttle first, onto the hard stone slab of the landing pad. She cautiously reached her hand out into the sunlight and snapped it back as her shield's screamed at her. "Ha!" she cried triumphantly. "Say it, Tarel!"

Tarel'Venn sighed audibly on the wide-link channel. "You were right, Amys'Vael. And I was wrong."

Amys turned back to the group, hands on her hips in proud victory. Kal just laughed, and signaled everyone out of the shuttle as he spoke.

"Alright people, we've spent the last two hours going over this so it should be easy to remember. Tali, Amys, and Tarel are Team One, they'll be doing the research and taking the readings. Kassha, you and the rest of the marines are with me, we'll be providing security in case anything goes wrong out here. And as our genius astronomical advisor here has demonstrated," he gestured to Amys, earning a soft laugh from behind the woman's visor, "stay out of direct sunlight as much as possible, it'll fry your shields." He motioned to Tali as he continued. "Tali'Zorah is audio-documenting this entire mission, so she'll be noticeably soft-spoken while we're planet-side. Amys that means you get to relay to the fire team any needs you all have, and call people out for being idiots."

"Oh, my favorite!" she excalimed, to a round of laughter from the other marines. Tarel let out a soft groan.

Kal nodded at her enthusiasm, then barked to the marines. "Alright, everyone. Look sharp and we'll be in and out of here in no time. Let's move out!"

The team moved forward, and as they followed the path towards the ancient quarian colony, Tali continued to speak. "Entering Haestrom colony, buildings of stone, rooftops indicate astronomical monitoring equipment. Dholen would have been a normal star at the time of this colony's foundation, but perhaps it was displaying behavioral anomalies even then? I'll have to compare their data with ours."

She led the way toward an observational tower as Kal stationed three marines at the gatehouse they'd passed, a rear guard for the ship. Kal nodded to her at the door, and she began to open it as his team fanned out around the outside. Entering, she accessed the old terminal and quickly pulled up a layout of the colony, uploading it to everyone's omni-tools. Tapping her comm link, she spoke to the squad.

"Alright, it looks like the main observatory is in the back of the complex. If the colony has any concentrated data on how the star was acting back then, it will be housed there."

" _Copy that, ma'am, looks like we have a minor problem, though. Something's happened to collapse a huge pile of rock in front of_ _ **this**_ _door_ ," as Kal's voice came through on her channel, her omni-tool formed a small blip on the map hovering above it.

"I see. Alright, give me a moment, Kal." She looked around the room, examining all the ancient equipment as she flipped back over to her recording software. "It seems some activity has toppled a stone column, preventing further access to the colony. We need to find some way to clear out a path..." her eyes came to rest on a pair of demolotion charges, ancient but usable, lying on a crate nearby. She smiled in memory behind her visor as she spoke. "It looks like the ancient colonists left behind some demolition charges. Shepard once used a mining laser to clear a path through some similar rubble back on Therum...maybe I can do the same thing with these charges."

Ten minutes later, Kal and Kassha had set the charges to the pile of rubble and made for cover. As the timer counted down, Tali watched excitedly, and when the dust cleared from the blast, a path lay open to them. A small round of cheers went through the soldiers, and Tali nodded approvingly. _Thanks, John,_ she thought with a smile.

"Alright," Kal spoke up again. "Looks like you have a straight shot from here to the observatory. Tarel and Amys, go with Tali and get the data you need. Kassha and I will stay here and watch your backs." Tali nodded, and the three of them opened the door behind the rubble, stepping further into the colony. After a few minutes of silent walking, they reached a small building, a sort of second gatehouse, and entered after working the access panel lock.

"Entering a second gatehouse now. _Keelah_..." The room the door opened into seemed well-preserved. A colorful tapestry hung on the far wall, lockers lined a near wall, and an ancient terminal sat next to the door they'd need to get through. Tali walked over to a small workbench, where a single geth arm lay unmolested for the past three centuries. "To think...our ancestors walked these halls with uncovered heads. So much space...walls of stone...I wish my friends could see this..." her heart clenched in her chest as the next words escaped her without thought, "...I wish Shepard were here..." Closing her eyes, she shook her head softly, she'd have to remember to edit that out before submitting it to the Admiralty Board, but it didn't make it untrue. Accessing the terminal, she opened the door and saw across a large courtyard the observatory.

"There we go," Amys whispered, and Tali nodded, the three of them moving forward. It took them only a minute to cross the quiet, empty courtyard, and when they reached the door, Tali examined the locking scripts.

"Extremely advanced locking scripts, this observatory was likely the reason the colony was founded. Inside should be extremely useful data, but I'll have to hack the lock. Shouldn't be too hard, it will just take a bit of ti-"

" _Team One, come in, this is Kal'Reegar! Team One do you read me?"_ Tali quickly switched to her wide-range comm.

"Copy, Kal'Reegar, this is Team One."

" _We've got geth incoming, ma'am! A patrol ship picked up our shuttle's EM bleed and tracked it here. They've destroyed the shuttle from orbit, and I don't know how long until they get troops groundside, but whatever you're looking for in that observatory, you'll need to get it fast."_

Tali looked above their heads as a geth dropship flew past, back towards where they'd come in. Swearing, she turned back to the lock and continued to work the code. Amys' voice whispered softly as two more geth dropships followed the first.

" _Keelah,_ this isn't going to end well..."

* * *

"Oh this is **not** going to end well..." John mused aloud as the three of them looked to the enclosed walkway above. Warden Kuril lay dead and bleeding at their feet, but he could have been an empty storage crate for all the attention anyone was paying him. He, Zaeed and Miranda had looked up at the audible scream of rage to see Jack...the **woman** named **Jack**...charging toward five Blue Suns troops, guns raised.

They hadn't had time to pull the trigger. She had crashed into them with a biotic force the likes of which John had never seen in his life, flinging them aside like rag dolls. Swearing, he leaped off of Kuril's perch and ran for the stairwell up to the walkway. As the trio rushed back toward the Normandy, they found Jack pacing as she stared at their ship. And was she...growling? A Blue Suns merc raised a rifle behind her, and Shepard held his own aloft, taking the man down with a quick burst. The gunfire snapped her out of her trance, and she looked to the dead merc, then back to him.

"What are you doing?"

He wasn't in any mood for it. "Oh, me? Just can't help it, I love shooting people. What the fuck do you think I'm doing? My name is Shepard, and I'm here to get you out."

Her laugh was acid. "Ha! _Get me out_? On a _Cerberus_ vessel? You'll have to give me one hell of a good reason."

"This station crashing into a **planet** isn't a good enough reason?" He turned to Miranda and spoke sarcastically. "I knew we should have brought the engraved invitations, people **always** want an engraved invitation." To his surprise, the woman smiled...barely...as she kept her weapon trained on the convict.

"Fuck you, I'd rather die on this station than set foot on a Ceberus ship. Thought you'd feel the same way, _Shepard_ ," she spat the name at him. "Even in a cell word gets around about heroes. They say you shut down a ton of Cerberus ops, now you're working for them?"

He bristled. "I don't **work** for Cerberus, Jack. They're funding my mission, and if you think I like it any more than you do, you're delusional. But human colonies are being abducted, and right now Cerberus is the only one doing anything about it."

She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly as she spoke. "Well _la-de-fucking-da_. Look who's white knighting to the rescue, kidnappers and torturers. Still not convinced to join you. Whoever runs Cerberus, whoever did all this shit to me, isn't going to send you on a fucking charity mission. There's **something** for them to gain here. There always is."

"I've no doubt there is," he said confidently, and Jack's eyes widened for a moment in surprise for the first time since they'd started speaking. "And when I find out what it is, I'll be sure to do everything I can to deny them it, but in the meantime, I'm saving human lives and fighting the Reapers, and I need your help to do it." A long silence hung between them, and Jack spoke quietly.

"Alright... **say** I come with you...I want something in return. I bet Cerberus has loads of files, tons of information on all the twisted shit they've done. I want full access to it."

Miranda laughed. "Absolutely not. I wouldn't let you near my own omni-tool much less the entire data archive of Cerberus operations."

"Hey, in case you hadn't noticed, I wasn't dealing with **you** , cheerleader." She turned back to Shepard, eyebrow cocked in question.

"I'll give you access to the files that specifically mention what was done concerning **you** , Jack. I'm no fan of Cerberus either, you apparently already know that, but I've got a ship full of Cerberus crew, and two Cerberus agents working with me against the Reapers. I'm not going to throw them all into the fire just to recruit one biotic powerhouse."

She shifted her stance before replying, assuming a more defensive posture. "Alright, fine. I can live with that." Miranda fumed beside him, but he would talk to her later. "But you better not be fucking with me, Shepard."

"I'll give you access as soon as we're clear of the station, Jack. But we need to get out of here n-"

" _Commander!"_ Joker's voice broke through his personal intercom, and Jack tilted her head to the side in confusion as he touched the side of his helmet and spoke.

"Joker? What's wrong?"

" _I've got an incoming QE relay from the Illusive Man, he says it's an emergency. He...he says it's about Tali."_

John's eyes turned stone-cold, and he switched off the comm link, rushing forward past a bewildered Jack, who stuttered, then rushed to catch up to them. Joker had the airlock open and waiting for them, and Shepard rushed past the pilot as he ran full tilt through the CIC, heads turning in shock to watch him fly past. Rushing through the tech lab, he blew past a startled Mordin who barely had time to raise a hand in greeting as he made his way to the Conference Room, slamming the control panel with one hand and tapping his foot impatiently as the room wireframed and projected a holographic version of the Illusive Man.

" _Shepard. That was sooner than expected. Miranda must have been right..."_

John ignored whatever he was trying to get at as he responded. "What's wrong? Joker said it was something with one of my former team."

The Illusive Man nodded. " _Yes, Shepard. Tali'Zorah vas Neema is currently on a high-risk recon operation on the planet Haestrom in the Dholen system...beyond the Perseus Veil._ "

John's blood ran cold as the man referenced the same words he'd read in Tali's secret message to him. "How do you know that?" he ventured carefully.

The Illusive Main took a drag on his cigarette before replying. "Because, Shepard. I've been keeping tabs on Ms. Zorah for a bit of time now."

Fury welled within him, and he unleashed it on the seated man with his **insufferable** knowing smile. "Why? To use her as leverage? To take her out if she _got in the way_ of you controlling my every fucking move?"

The man's smile didn't falter, and John was even more enraged. "No, Shepard. I was keeping tabs on Ms. Zorah because Operative Lawson advised me it would be wise to do so. She made it clear to me after your...reunion...on Freedom's Progress, that Ms. Zorah was obviously a person of interest to you, and that if we were able to inform you about what's happened to her, you may begin to trust our intel a bit more."

An icy hand gripped his heart. "What's happened to her?"

"Her team has come under fire from a geth force, one that's about four times larger than her own squad. She's in trouble Shepard, and she doesn't have much time."

John turned away from the man, relaying the coordinates from Tali's message to Joker as he spoke on the ship-wide. "Joker, get us **here**. **Now.** "

" _Aye-aye, Commander. Plotting a course for Haestrom."_ After closing his eyes for a moment, John turned back to the seated man, looking him square in the face as he spoke.

"I owe you an apology."

For the first time since he'd met the man, John could swear he saw surprise cross his face. When he spoke, it was confirmed.

"Well...I...appreciate it, Shepard." The loss of composure was over in a heartbeat, and he was back to his aloof, calculating self. "I keep trying to tell you we're on the same side. Maybe one of these days you'll start to believe it. Go recruit Ms. Zorah, and when you're done with that I've forwarded a few more dossiers you may be interested in pursuing." He quickly tapped a button on his chair, and the relay cut out, leaving John standing in the empty Conference Room. He closed his eyes, clenching his fists as he hung his head toward the deck below him, praying to nameless gods he hadn't believed in since he was a small boy.

"Please...just... ** _please_**..."

* * *

"Come **on** , you stupid _bosh'tet_!" Tali yelled in frustration as she continued to work the observatory door in vain. Amys and Tarel were swinging their weapons, firing in every direction as geth tried to close on their location. A dropship had come across their courtyard and doubled back, to the chagrin of the three quarians working on the door. Kal had tried to warn them, but between the defense his men were holding and the door lock giving her trouble, Tali hadn't had much time to react. She crouched down now, making herself as small a target as she could to any geth that may have a shot at her as she frantically worked the door.

"Tali'Zorah, how's it coming?" Tarel's voice rang inside her helmet, tension evident in his tone, and she called back.

"I've almost got it, just hang on a little longer."

In answer, his sniper rifle rang out three times in succession, three geth behind them falling to its wrath. Amys fired her assault rifle indiscriminately, taking out geth after geth as she deftly slid from cover to cover.

"I've got them held back, Tali, if you can just-ah!" a geth sniper round caught him in the chest, and Tarel flew backwards off of his high perch, landing some twenty feet out from Tali, completely exposed. Scrambling, he rushed back to cover, taking two more hits in the back as he vaulted to safety. The door sprang open at Tali's fingertips, but instead of inwards, she rushed to Tarel. Amys kept the geth at bay while Tali looked at his wounds. He was bleeding from three different gunshots, section seals already clamping down.

"Amys, fall back into the observatory!" Tali yelled, hooking Tarel under the arms as the geth advanced quickly. He swatted her arms away and shoved her back towards the observatory. Their eyes met for a long moment, and he spoke quietly, coughing behind his mask.

"Not...not this time, Tali." He reached at his side and grabbed his sniper rifle, heaving himself back up onto the stone he'd used for cover. Bleeding out onto it, he lifted the rifle and began firing again, taking them down as he yelled to her. "Get in there...get what you need. I'll...I'll keep them off of you as long as I can. Keep them...away from the door."

Tears streamed from her eyes as she nodded and ran for the observatory. Entering, she slammed the door shut and locked it, sinking to her knees after doing so. Amys put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to meet the other woman's questioning gaze. Tali shook her head softly, and Amys lowered her eyes in prayer for their lost friend. Standing furiously, Tali crossed to the terminal in back of the observatory and began a full download of all available information. If the Admiralty Board wanted data about this star, they would get their damn data, and she would be done with them.

She tapped her comm link to hail Kal'Reegar, and heard gunfire and explosions on the other end. "Kal? Kal! What's happening out there?"

" _We're holding them off, ma'am, but we're taking heavy casualties. Eight marines plus Kassha'Shal so far."_ Tali squeezed her eyes shut in pain as he continued. " _My men and I are falling back to the far side of the courtyard. Are you three inside?"_

"Amys and I are in the observatory. We...we lost Tarel."

" _Then may the Ancestors bless his return to them. At least Amys is safe with you... We can cover you, keep the geth off the door, but I don't know for how long."_ The door behind them started to whine as geth platforms began to hack it, and Tali moved next to Amys, training their weapons on the door and waiting. Waiting for the end.

"Just get here fast, Reegar. We don't have long. _"_

Tali turned her head to Amys, both women's weapons trained on the door they knew would open at any moment. "Amys...I'm so sorry..." to Tali's surprise, the woman laughed, though there was a definite sadness in the gesture.

"You're sorry? Tali...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't get you back to Shepard. That's what I wanted most for you. You're like a sister to me, Tali. I just...wanted to see you happy after all the pain I'd watched you go through."

Tears welled in Tali's eyes, and she readied her pistol on the door again as she spoke, quietly but assuredly. "You **are** my sister, Amys'Vael. Whatever happens, we fight and die as family." Amys nodded, and they looked back to the door as it burst open, at least five geth platforms visible in the entryway. Their weapons sang a chorus of bullets, and one by one the platforms fell as they were funneled into the enclosed entryway. Seconds seemed like hours, and the tide of platforms seemed endless, but they were prevailing. Hope edged its way into Tali's mind.

The bullets slammed mercilessly into Amys' stomach, throwing her backwards into a pile of rubble in the corner. Eyes wide with shock, she clutched at the wound for only a second before reaching painfully for her rifle and opening fire again as she bled. Tali saw the woman she knew for her sister fall, and rage overtook her. Stepping forward, she fired round after round into the optical units of five different geth. As she reached the door, she ignited her omni-tool, readying a massive electrical discharge, and swung her fist forward, slamming it into the glowing eye of the nearest geth. The shock went off, and turned the geth platform into a small bomb, exploding and flinging back all the other geth at the door. Using all her remaining strength, Tali heaved the door shut again and overloaded the locking mechanism with her omni-tool. They were trapped now. Nothing short of a demolition charge would open that door, and doing that would certainly bring the roof down on them. Tali had created a tomb for them, but it would keep the geth occupied.

Rushing to Amys, she applied medi-gel to her wound as the woman clutched her rifle tightly to focus her mind elsewhere.

"T-Too fast..." she stammered, and Tali wept silently as she did what she could for her sister's pain. "They were...too fast. We didn't...make them that way, did we?"

"No," Tali said softly, cradling Amys' head in her lap. "They've upgraded themselves over the years, finding out better ways to.. wait, you're distracting me, you _bosh'tet_!" The soldier in her arms laughed, a sharp, broken sound interrupted by fits of coughing.

"Didn't want you...to focus on this." Tali was about to respond when a large _boom_ echoed outside the door. A few seconds later, another one sounded, slightly to the left. "Kal's here..." Amys whispered. "He's holding them off...keeping us safe."

_Holding them off so we can die slowly in this tomb I've built us..._ Tali thought bitterly, and squeezed Amys tighter. "He's a good man," she said softly.

"Yea..." Amys trailed off before laughing slightly as she continued, "that's my _nehya_."

Tali's eyes shot wide as she remembered everything about Kal and Amys since they'd met. The way Kal had laughed at her, referenced her in his mission briefing, the way he'd joked with her about being his liason to Tali, what he'd said over their comm link...' _At least Amys is safe with you...'_ . The way he **always** took her with him on his missions, the way he'd come to see her about Freedom's Progress only after seeing Amys first...a thousand little interactions raced through her mind as she recalled the last year of her life...and she'd missed every single one...

" _Keelah_ Amys, I'm so sorry. I didn't know..."

She tilted her head in a smile at Tali, "No one does...we...we kind of like it that way, to be honest...but I'm not about to die without my sister knowing..."

"You're **not** going to die here, Amys. You're just not." Sobs threatened to overtake her, but she stayed strong. For her sister, she held onto her emotions.

"You're right, Tali..." Amys trailed off as her eyes began to dim. "Kal...Kal will get us out of here...He always comes through..."

* * *

"Come on, Garrus!"

"Shepard the dropship's going as fast as it can, I promise you!"

Shepard wrung his hands restlessly as the Kodiak broke Haestrom's atmosphere. Mordin had warned him that the radiation from the sun would fry their shields, and they'd prepared accordingly, but every inch closer they got to the planet's survace, Shepard could just **feel** something was wrong. As soon as the shuttle touched down, Shepard rushed from the side, the rest of his team running full tilt behind him. Finding quarian bodies at the gatehouse, he turned to his team and spoke.

"Confirmed geth activity. Zaeed, you and Jacob stay with the shuttle. We all saw the wreckage of the quarians' ship on the way in, and if more platforms come back I want some defense on our exit strategy." The two men nodded, and Shepard turned to the rest. "Miranda, Garrus, Kasumi, and Mordin, you're with me. Let's move fast, we don't know the situation, but we **have** to be quick." The team split, following him towards the gate to the colony. He slammed the access panel and roared as he charged into the geth behind it.

Caught completely off-guard, the geth were decimated, and Shepard crossed to a pile of rubble behind them. Behind it, he found a slew of quarian bodies, and his rage intensified. A few hung onto life, and Shepard waved Mordin over.

"Injuries traumatic, suggest multiple-gunshot wounds. Geth moving fast through this area if they let targets live. Can stabilize these quarians, will need assistance though."

Miranda crouched down beside him, rolling up her sleeves as she nodded to Shepard. "I'll help doctor Solus with the quarians, Commander. You three go find Tali."

Shepard nodded, and opened the door behind the rubble to press onward. As soon as the door opened, he shot the rifle out of the hands of the geth platform who turned to greet them, crossing quickly to it and putting a balled fist through its optical sensor. Swinging around behind it, he yelled as he stretched his cybernetics to the limit, pulling backwards and snapping the geth's neck off of its body, letting the pieces fall to the floor in front of him.

"Well..." Garrus began, watching Shepard work, " **that's** certainly a new entry in the how-to book..." Kasumi nodded, her mouth still slightly open at the display of raw power, and he picked up his rifle, speaking with acid in his voice.

"You heard Mordin, Garrus. They're after something, probably **her**. If that's the case, then I'm just getting started." Opening the door they stood in front of led to a small path leading to a second gatehouse-like building, and as they plowed through the seven or eight geth patrolling the path, Shepard felt concern joining the rage in his blood. What if he was too late? What if she was already de- _NO!_ his mind demanded. _Get it together! Tali wouldn't let herself get taken out that easily, have some faith in her and keep moving!_ Nodding with determination, he finished of the geth and entered the gatehouse. Moving slowly through it, he looked around at the room's adornments, stopping at a small terminal beside a geth arm on a table. Tapping the interface, the terminal opened its most recent file, an environmental audio capture. Shepard couldn't read the words in the foreign script, but he recognized the voice the terminal had captured.

_"To think...our ancestors walked these halls with uncovered heads. So much space...walls of stone...I wish my friends could see this...I wish Shepard were here..."_ Looking back to Garrus and Kasumi, Shepard saw the turian nod and the thief follow suit, and he rushed to the door, opening it and taking the ramp down to the courtyard below. As Shepard rounded the corner, bullets whizzed by his head, and he dove for cover.

" _Keelah_ , I thought you were geth! Who the hell is that?"

Shepard raised his eyes over cover to see a lone quarian crouched against a low wall, rocket launcher in one hand and smoking submachine gun in the other. Crossing to him, Shepard took cover beside him and spoke as Kasumi and Garrus followed suit.

"I'm Commander Shepard, my team and I are here to get you and yours the hell out of here."

The quarian's eyes went wide behind his visor. " **The** Shepard? Tali's Shepard?"

Shepard allowed himself a small smile. "I sure as hell hope so or I think I'm on the wrong planet."

The quarian let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Kal'Reegar, Migrant Fleet Marines. I have **no** idea how you knew where we were, and given the military classification of this mission...I'm not sure I **want** to know...but I'm not in a position to refuse help right now."

Shepard nodded. "Are you injured, Reegar?"

"Bastards got me in the leg when I was moving to cover. Suit's taking care of it, I just can't move so well. Still, with the four of us taking the courtyard, we should be able to get to Tali. She's locked herself in the observatory, along with my...ah, her teammate Amys'Vael."

Shepard had been looking across the courtyard to the observatory, but now snapped his gaze back to Reegar. "You're sure Amys is with her?"

"Yea, as far as I know, we're the only three left. The sun fried my comm link about half an hour ago, so I haven't been able to contact anyone, but last I heard they were locked down nice and tight. The geth have been trying to hack the door but..." he patted the rocket launcher across his knees, "that hasn't been going so well for them. Still, the colossus they've got is a real _det kazuat_. It's keeping me pinned down, and I'm running out of ammo."

Shepard nodded, tapping his comm link. "Mordin, Miranda, how are the quarians at the first gatehouse?"

Mordin's voice spoke quickly in response. " _Diagnosis optimistic_ _, Shepard. Lost one, three in critical but stable condition."_

"Good. Prep them for transport as best you can. Miranda, get on the link to Joker and have him pick them up, let Chakwas know what's coming her way as well."

" _On it, Commander."_

"Garrus," he said, turning to the turian, "take a sniping perch on the level above. Kasumi and I will head through the center to deal with the colossus. Keep the geth platforms off of us." His teammates nodded and checked their weapons as Shepard turned to Reegar. "I need you to watch our backs, Reegar. Last thing I want is any more dead quarians. Let me take it from here, you've already gone above and beyond."

The quarian seemed to bristle slightly as he replied. "No way, Shepard. I just lost most of my unit, I'm not going to let you run in there without me!" He moved to stand, and Shepard let his rage overtake him, grabbing the quarian by the shoulders and slamming him against the stone wall. Reegar's eyes went wide behind his visor as Shepard spoke in a soft, cold, whisper.

"Listen, Kal. Tali's trapped in that building and I'm going in after her. I assume **someone** has told you who I am and what I'm capable of?" The quarian nodded, and Shepard continued. "Good, then I won't have to re-hash. I'm not losing another quarian today. Is that clear? Not. one. more. What I need you to do is watch my back with that cannon of yours. Can you do that for me, Reegar? Can you work with me to save Tali and Amys." The women's names seemed to drain the resistance out of him, and he slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"Alright, Shepard. I don't like it, but I'll let you call the shots."

Thirty seconds later, John Shepard dashed out into a synthetic nightmare. Geth were on all sides, and with his assault rifle blazing, Garrus' sniper shots striking target after target, and Kasumi's submachine gun tearing into the geth, it wasn't long before they reached a cover spot just in front of the colossus. Looking around, Shepard noted with sadness a quarian body lying next to a discarded sniper rifle, his suit torn to pieces by the geth's weapons. Upon closer examination, Shepard found the man had carried four tech mines with him that he'd been about to activate as he died. Silently thanking the nameless quarian, he took the mines and tapped his comm link.

"I've got a plan. Kasumi, draw its fire away from my position. Garrus, I need you to hit it it the...neck? Make it look away from us. Kal, you there?"

" _Copy, Shepard, I'm still here."_

"Great, when you see the hole in its base, send a rocket into the circuitry."

" _When...when I see the_ _ **what**_ _?"_

Shepard grinned. "The hole in its base, come on, keep up, Reegar."

Garrus' voice came through their radio. " _Easy now; n_ _ot everyone is completely used to your crazy ideas, Shepard. Someday you'll have to understand that._ "

"Right, first time for everyone. Welcome to the club, Kal'Reegar. Alright, here goes!"

Kasumi swung out of cover to their left, firing her submachine gun into the colossus and drawing its head away from Shepard's cover spot. As the plasma ball coalesced beneath its optical sensor, Garrus' shot rang out, striking the side of its head and throwing off the colossus' shot by a fair margin. The plasma ball missed Kasumi entirely and careened into the stone walls of the courtyard. She activated her tactical cloak before it could line up another shot, throwing the colossus' sensors off dramatically.

Seeing his opportunity, Shepard vaulted over his cover and rushed head-on toward the colossus. As he reached its front legs, he leaned back, sliding underneath the giant construct on the back plate of his armor. As he slid, he dropped the four tech mines directly beneath the colossus, rolling forward and back to his feet as he came out the other side. Turning, he fired his rifle at the mines he'd laid, igniting them and sending a huge explosion into the base of the colossus. Metal plating warped and groaned, and in a split second the blast had exposed the colossus' inner wirings.

Its head turned around and focussed on Shepard, another ball of plasma forming in its head. Shepard simply stood and smiled at it, holding its attention as Kal's expected rocket slammed into the opening he'd made. The colossus exploded, and Shepard dove behind cover to escape the flying metal pieces. Standing, he observed the smoldering heap of metal with satisfaction as Kal's voice rang into his comm link.

" _Shepard_ _...I can't believe that worked, and I was **here** for it! Keelah _, you're **insane**..._ "_

Rushing to the observatory door, Shepard tapped his comm link. "I sure try, but it's hard, having to one-up yourself all the time. Now how do we get the door open?"

Kasumi was at his side in an instant, scanning the door with her omni-tool. "It's jammed, Shep. Nothing short of a explosive blast will break through now."

" _Hey didn't we **just** have one of those?"_ Garrus' voice came through the comm link as he made his way across the courtyard.

Shepard closed his eyes, trying to contain the irritation welling inside him. He'd come all this way to be defeated by a damn **door**? He had to know Tali was safe, and they only way to know that, was to get through this door. "Hold this," he said, handing Kasumi his assault rifle. She took it with a quizzical look, and he walked up to the door. With a heave, he brought his booted foot up and slammed it against the metal surface. The door gave the slightest bit, and he kicked it again, and again, pushing his cybernetics, each time kicking harder and harder. He felt sweat pour down his face, his muscles tense with pain, felt the metal tubes in his leg vibrating with the force of his kicks, and after what seemed like an eternity he slammed his foot into the door again, causing it to break off its hinges and fall unceremoniously into the room behind it.

Stepping forward into the darkened room, Shepard looked around for any sign of life. He opened his mouth to speak, and his shields rippled with incoming fire. Ducking, he looked in the direction it had come from to see a haggard quarian laying on her back. She was bleeding slowly from a stomach wound, but still clung to her rifle. Amys. Shepard rushed to her, and her eyes widened behind her visor as she recognized him.

"H-Hey..." she stammered, "it's...it's **you**. What are **you** doing here?"

"Getting **you** out of here," he spoke softly back as he smiled down at her, tapping his comm link. "Kal! I need some help here, Amys has been injured."

"John?"

Her unmistakable voice pulled him away from Amys, his eyes reaching into the back of the room and seeing her approach. Kasumi and Kal were with Amys then, and were slowly but deliberately nudging him away so they could stabilize her. He stood, crossing quickly to Tali and wrapping her in his arms. He could feel her squeeze him tightly against her, and he returned the favor, resting his head on top of her helmet as she shook with rage and pain.

" _Keelah_ , John I thought I was going to die in here. I...I can't believe you came."

"Of course I came, Tali. I wasn't about to lose you again."

She pulled away, looking behind him to where Kal knelt beside Amys. "She's hurt badly, John. I've done what I can, but she needs medical attention."

"Well I've got Chakwas and Solus on the Normandy. We've already evacuated three quarian soldiers we found alive at the entry point, and they should already be in the med bay. Let's get her there and then you can tell me what the hell was worth all this death." She shook her head softly before burying it against his chest again and whispering.

" **Nothing** is worth all this, John. **Especially** not what they sent us in for..."

* * *

Miranda hailed Joker on their radio, telling him to bring the Normandy in and have the med bay prepped for three quarians. Two minutes later, they were putting the soldiers into the airlock and moving them to the med bay. As the doors closed and his doctors got to work, Shepard's voice came over her comm link.

" _Miranda, have them prep one more table in the med bay. We've got another injury, and this one needs precedence."_

"Of course, Shepard." Tapping her ship-wide, she spoke with authority. "This is XO Lawson. Mr. Moreau, please send the Kodiak back planet-side, to the Commander's location. Doctors Chakwas and Solus, please prepare another bed for a fourth quarian. I'm told this one takes precedence. All hands to stations, but be prepared to be pulled for emergency medical assistance if necessary. While some of you may not enjoy the thought of quarians aboard the Normandy, I trust I do not need to remind anyone of the cost of failure on this mission. Lawson out."

The Kodiak arrived back on the Normandy twenty minutes later. Miranda watched as Garrus, Kasumi, and an uninjured quarian exited the shuttle, carrying the wounded one as delicately as possible. Shepard and the quarian she would assume was Tali'Zorah exited last, and Miranda noted silently that despite all the chaos of the moment, Shepard found a moment to reach over and squeeze the girl's hand. She had looked at him then and tilted her head ever so slightly. Miranda turned then, her cheeks coloring, and directed the uninjured quarian towards the med bay.

A small part of her wanted to gag furiously at Shepard's choice. The rest of her was curious as to why she hadn't been able to keep a small smile from splitting her lips when she'd seen them together.

* * *

Tali stood outside the med bay on Deck Three, and as Shepard crossed the room, he grabbed a chair from one of the mess tables, bringing it with him and placing it next to her. She looked down at it for a long while, then up to him. "It's for sitting," he teased, and she sighed softly as she sat, her eyes returning to the closed door in front of her. "She's in good hands, Tali. Chakwas herself told me that Solus is a genius, and you know she's not one to give credit undeserved."

Tali nodded solemnly at his words. "I know you're probably right...and I trust you, I'm just...exhausted. And worried for Amys. I've already transmitted the data to the Admiralty Board, and initiated my absence request for time aboard the Normandy. I'm officially part of your crew for the time being, if you'll have me." She looked up to him, a bit of mirth in her eyes, and he nodded as he smiled back down at her. In a moment, though, the mirth was gone, and her eyes wandered back to the door as she continued meekly. "We lost too many people down there...Kassha, Tarel, marines whose names I can't even remember right now...Thank you for getting Kal out alive, John. He's...very important to someone."

He nodded to her as he spoke. "Well it wasn't for his lack of trying. For a second I thought he was ready to put my lights out and go fight the geth by himself before listening to me when I told him he should stay down and watch my back."

She laughed softly. "That sounds like Kal." Unconsciously, she stretched, and John found himself admiring her curves as she did so. He turned his face away quickly at the realization of what he was doing. She'd lost friends today, now was no time to...do whatever it was he was doing...He reached down, taking her hand and leading her to the elevator. Guiding her inside, he pressed the button for Deck One and stepped back out. "You head up and get some sleep, I'll stay with Kal and Amys, and let you know as soon as anything happens."

She started to move towards the doors. "No, John, I should stay, it's my fau-"

"Tali," he interrupted her, "You said you were done with the mission, correct?"

"Well yes, but-"

"And you said that after your mission was complete your request to transfer here was approved to begin immediately, right?"

"Yes, John, but-"

"Then **I'm** your captain now. And in my first **blatant** abuse of power I'm ordering you to Deck One to get some sleep. Understood?"

She clearly worked to find something to say, but could find nothing. Settling back against the elevator, she replied. "Alright... _Keelah_ I've been on the ship for five minutes and you're already bossing me around."

He smiled at her and spread his arms open wide. "Welcome back!" Her small, tired laugh made his heart soar even given what had happened today, and as the elevator doors closed, he walked back over to the med bay doors. Kal had occupied the chair in Tali's absence, and John grabbed another one from the mess and joined him, heaving a sigh as he did so.

"Yea," Kal said, his eyes not moving from the door, "It's been that kind of day, hasn't it?"

Shepard nodded. "Sure has. You did well out there, Reegar. Not many commanding officers I know of could take on a geth force four times bigger than their own and come out as well as you did."

Reegar shook his head as he replied softly. "Maybe not, maybe today was some kind of success, but I haven't really found out yet what the price was. It could still prove to be too much." He looked at John as he continued. "I'm a soldier, Shepard. I can send men to their deaths for a piece of data if the Admiralty Board needs it. But some things...some things are too...important to just throw away like that." He fidgeted a bit in his chair as he stared back at the med bay doors. "Some things are worth more than any mission..." he trailed off, and as John sat in silence next to this quarian he'd never met before, he somehow felt they were two men who at that exact moment were thinking the exact same thing.


	11. The Space Between Us

***Author's Note***  
Sorry for the brief delay, school's been rearing its ugly head, and probably  
will until about early December. Good news is that from about December 10th  
until January 10th, I'm on winter break, so there will be plenty of time for  
writing. I'm **hoping** to have _For We Are Many_ finished before I start up school  
again in January, but right now that's very tentative. Lots to write. =)

This is a nice setup piece for a much, **much** larger next chapter I'll be writing probably  
later tonight. To be honest there's a healthy dose of Shep/Tali fluff here, mainly  
because I wanted to write a chapter where I wasn't describing a fight scene. =P  
Citadel chapter on deck, as well as bit of pre-Horizon stuff from Kaidan's PoV, and  
perhaps a visit back to a certain krogan warlord before we jump back to Shep. We'll  
see... XD

* * *

**The Space Between Us**

"Commander...Commander wake up..." The gentle voice roused John from his sleep, and he remembered with a start where he was. Bringing his head up slowly, he hissed at his aching neck, and doctor Chakwas laughed softly at him. "Yes, that **is** what sleeping with your head hanging like that will get you. Are you alright, Shepard?"

He nodded slowly, feeling a heavy weight on his right shoulder. Looking over, he saw Kal'Reegar's helmet leaned against it and suppressed a laugh. Shaking his shoulder gently, he felt the other man stir and sit upright with a shock when he realized what had happened.

" _Keelah_ , Shepard...ah...sorry."

John nodded to him. "Don't worry about it, we both passed out from what I'm gathering." Kal nodded, and John turned back to Chakwas. "How are they, doctor?"

She looked at Kal as she responded, and John just listened, knowing the quarian would know more about what she would say than he would. "The three soldiers we were brought had severe impact trauma. Their suits saved their lives in many different ways, but they're all stable. Critical, but stable.

Kal nodded, and spoke softly. "And Amys'Vael?"

Chakwas let out a heavy sigh. "She took a **lot** of fire in her midsection, Kal'Reegar. Doctor Solus and I were able to remove the projectiles, but until we can see how the scarring progresses, we're keeping her under constant surveillance." Kal nodded solemnly, and she continued. "That said, doctor Solus and I have calculated the probabilities of the different ways her scarring could occur, and we've determined she has a very high chance of making a full recovery." Kal's eyes widened slightly at the news and he stood, shaking her hand in a tight grip.

"Thank you, doctor. I have no idea how Shepard manages to have not one but **two** doctors on his ship who can treat my people, but _Keelah_ I'm glad you're here."

Chakwas smiled as she replied. "Don't mention it, Kal. Like I said, we'll be staying with her for a few days while she recovers. She's still unconscious at the moment, so I'd recommend getting some **actual** sleep, maybe in the Observation Deck? I can contact you if anything happens with her." The quarian hastily agreed and turned, giving Shepard a sharp nod before heading down the hallway. Chakwas turned to John with a weary smile. "You sure do keep me busy, Commander."

Laughing softly, he stood and put his hands on her shoulders. "Only because I know you can handle it, Carol."

"Yes, I can handle it quite well, but I'm serious about Amys. She needs undisturbed time to recuperate. And we've got to figure out something to do with those children that followed Garrus aboard. John," she looked up into his eyes, hers laced with concern, "we **need** a few days of downtime. If you have any mission that doesn't chance you getting shot at, it would be my advice as your doctor to do it now."

John's omni-tool chimed, and Joker's voice came through the comm unit. " _Hey Commander? I ah...next time you've got a free minute, I'd like to get your opinion on something. No rush, just...you know whenever."_

Slightly confused, John tapped his omni-tool and replied. "Sure, Joker. I've got to go let Tali know what's going on with the quarians, but as soon as that's done I'll let you know."

" _Sounds good, you know where to find me."_

Nodding to doctor Chakwas, he turned and made for the elevator, pressing the key for Deck One. As soon as the elevator began to rise, a cold pit formed in his stomach, and a wave of uncomfortable feeling washed over him. He was...nervous? Why nervous? It's Tali...the one person he should feel comfortable with. _It's the first time you've seen her since Freedom's Progress,_ he told himself. It wasn't a real reason, but he let himself believe it was as the doors slid open on Deck One.

John stepped quietly out onto the metal deck that led into his office. The lights in the cabin were completely out, only the blue backlight from the aquarium on the side wall spilling into the room. As he slowly took the stairs down into the living area of his quarters, he saw her sitting on the couch, legs pulled up underneath her, arms folded across her knees and head resting on them. He shook his head at the sight. He had two couches and a bed large enough that it **still** made him embarassed to admit was his, and she chose to huddle up and fall asleep like this?

A smile slowly worked its way across his face, and he quietly crossed over to her sleeping form. Leaning down as he had more than two years ago, he slipped his arms under her legs and around her back, lifting her up off the couch and moving over toward the bed. The thought crossed his mind as he walked toward the bed that he still hadn't used it. Since they'd disembarked on the SR-2, he'd spent every night going over dossiers or catching up on the events of the two years he'd lost; and had always fallen asleep on the couch or at the terminal. He suppressed a small laugh at the thought that Tali would be using the bed before he ever did, and was about to place her down onto it when her soft voice froze him in his tracks.

"Normally," she spoke quietly, without opening her eyes, "when a quarian is startled awake by an unknown source, the instinctual reaction is to attack. Flail wildly, in this specific case."

His smiled widened, and he replied just as quietly. "Normally, when a captain gives an order to a crew member to go find a place on Deck One to sleep, his meaning is to relax, not conserve space."

Her eyes did open then, and for all the machinery Cerberus had put into him, his heart still stopped for a moment when he met her glowing, almond-shaped eyes. She met his gaze, and for a single, silent moment in his darkened cabin, he was completely content. "John..." she whispered nervously, "...you can put me down now."

"Ah, right...sorry." He tipped his arms, and she moved to step out of them. Crossing the room away from him, she took a seat back on the couch, then quickly stood again, her voice wavering but professional.

"H-How are the other quarians? And Amys?"

He was confused. This was the woman who had told him she was 'bonding' with him, and while he wasn't quite sure what that had meant at the time, he had assumed it was a matter of great importance. It had sounded that way, anyway. But now...she seemed to be **trying** to keep her distance...

"They, ah...they're alright, Tali. 'Critical, but stable,' as Chakwas said. Amys is expected to make a full recovery," he smiled and continued, "much to Kal'Reegar's noticeable relief."

She nodded. "Good. That's...good news." Her fingers intertwined at her waist, and John let a look of confusion cross his face. Seeing it, she stammered. "I-I should go, check on Kal or...something." She moved quickly, making to pass him and enter the elevator, but he reached out, gently grabbing her upper arm as she passed, and halting her progress. She turned to look at him, her eyes almost pleading. "Shepard, please...I should...I'm needed..."

His voice was a whisper. "You're needed right here, Tali. Something's going on between us, and I sure would like to know what it is."

Her eyes had stared back almost longingly at the elevator out of reach, but now they met his again, before lowering as she spoke. "I...I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't...feel happy right now, but I **do**. I shouldn't be so ready to forget everything that's happened today and just collapse asleep onto that bed that's bigger than any four of my peoples' put together, but I **am**. I don't deserve this, not after what's happened."

He turned her to face him fully, grabbing her shoulders with his hands. "And what could you have done, Tali? Hmm? What brilliant plan cooked up in the span of the five minutes' warning you had that the geth were on the way was going to allow you to get everyone out of there, against forces four times larger than your own?"

Her back straightened, and her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. "I should have thought of **something** , had **some** kind of contingency plan!" Her voice was cold, offended, and his own rose slightly at her refusal to understand.

"You don't just **have** a contingency plan for fighting a geth surprise attack of that size. **No** one does! **I** sure as hell never did!"

She stepped away from his grip, crossing her arms over her chest as she retorted. "Oh! And I suppose since the **great** **Commander Shepard** never had such a plan, the rest of us lowly mortals shouldn't worry about it either, is that it?"

He shook his head in frustration. "That's not what I mean, Tali. All I'm saying is that you can't blame yourself for being caught off-guard, especially not by a force that large, and in **their** space, no less."

"Yes, thank you, I'll be sure to take that advice into consideration, coming from someone who has **no** idea what I've just been through." He opened his mouth to speak, but she glared at him even harder, and he closed his mouth, shaking his head softly as she continued. "I'm going to go check on Kal and the others. **That's** still my responsibility, no matter what ship I serve on now."

She turned and left, crossing to the elevator, and as its doors slid shut John looked down at his fists. They'd been clenching and relaxing rhythmically on their own as he'd grown more and more frustrated. He knew she was just overworked about what had happened on Haestrom, and maybe he'd needed to emply a little more...tact, but John was a blunt man. And he **did** know what she'd just been through, he knew about it three times over, but he'd stayed quiet. He couldn't remind her without inciting her further. Crossing to the couch, he sat down, placing his head in his hands and wondering why the argument he'd just had was already making him feel physically ill...

* * *

Tali fumed as she rode the elevator back down to Deck Three, and as the doors opened, she crossed immediately to the med bay and knocked lightly. A viewport slid open on the other side, and doctor Chakwas' familiar face brightened at the sight of her.

"Tali, dear, welcome back aboard."

She smiled behind her visor, the doctor had always been kind to her, and had picked up on treating quarians very quickly in her time aboard the old Normandy. "Hello, doctor. I was just coming to check on the others."

"Ah, I see. Well unfortunately, Tali, we're all sterilized back here, for obvious reasons. I was under the impression that Shepard was going to tell you..." she trailed off and Tali spoke up.

"He did, I just...wanted to see for myself."

"I understand. The worst will be over in another few hours, everyone in here is still quite critical. Your friend Kal'Reegar is in the Observation Room down the hall, maybe he'd like some company?"

Tali nodded, and turned back to the hallway. As she walked, she continued to let her mind wander to the argument she'd just had with John. Why couldn't he just **understand** that this was her fault, and that she needed to accept responsibility for it? Shaking her head softly as her mind pondered the situation, she stepped around the corner, and almost into a human woman in a **quite** tight-fitting Cerberus uniform. Narrowing her eyes, she spoke quietly.

"Excuse me."

The woman looked back at her, the icy visage on her face not faltering for an instant. "My mistake, I was distracted. Tali'Zorah vas Neema, I take it?" She said nothing, only continued to glare at the woman. "Right...Miranda Lawson, I'm Shepard's XO aboard the Normandy. I've received word that you'll be joining the team; if you need any special supplies, please let me know via a requsition order, and I'll see what I can do."

Tali tried to remain hostile, but the woman was just so...professional. "I...I will."

The other woman nodded, stepping past Tali, towards the elevator, and as the doors closed, Tali looked around. Humans in Cerberus dress milled about the Crew deck, and to her surprise, most didn't even register her presence as they went about their business. She read the names above the rooms, finding the Observation Deck at the far end of the hall. Opening it, she smiled behind her helmet as she saw Kal sitting next to a small human girl, who was examining his suit. Stepping in quietly, she overheard their conversation.

"So...that tube processes the recycled air from your ventilation system, and... **this** one filters out impurities to keep it sterile?"

"Yea, that's right. You sure learn fast...you sure you've never been in one of these before?"

She shook her head, and though she didn't laugh, her lips twitched up in a small smile before she resumed her serious composure. Catching Tali's presence out of the corner of her eye, she nodded to Kal and left the room. As the door closed shut behind her, Tali walked over to Kal, taking the seat next to him with a soft sigh. Kal laughed softly.

"What?"

"Ah, nothing ma'am, it's just when you flopped down like that with a sigh...Shepard did the exact same thing earlier when he sat with me waiting for word about the others. Just an amusing resemblance is all." He stretched in the chair and spoke again. "You...don't look as amused as I was."

She shook her head softly. "He doesn't understand. I can tell he's trying, but he wasn't there except at the end, he doesn't comprehend why I'm upset with myself."

"Well frankly, neither can I, ma'am."

Her head whipped toward him. "Because this is **my** fault, Kal. I just watched most of our team die because **I** didn't have a backup plan. We went that deep into geth space, and my best backup plan was 'have Kal and the others shoot at them until we get what we need'? That's pathetic."

"Right, pathetic." He chuckled, and she bristled. " _Keelah_ , Tali'Zorah, how were any of us supposed to fight a force that big? We knew that our best chance of survival was to not get spotted in the first place. You and I both know that if Shepard hadn't showed up to pull our asses out of the fire, we'd all of us be dead back there on that rock in geth space. And I guarantee you if **we** know it, **he** knows it. The fact that he didn't say it to you during whatever argument you must have just had confuses the hell out of me. And the fact that you're down here talking to **me** instead of the one person on this ship who understands what you're going through baffles me even more, ma'am."

Her tone was icy. He was just like Shepard, the big _bosh'tet_. "And how do you imagine that, Kal?"

His head tilted to the side in confusion, and he spoke hesitantly. "You really need me to show you?" Seeing her continued confusion, he pulled up his omni-tool, opening an extranet page and, after a brief moment of searching, turned it to her, showing her the archive file he'd pulled up. It only took the first sentence read for her to swear worse than she ever had in her entire life, leaping from the chair and running from the room back to the elevator.

_Thresher maws attack Alliance outpost on Akuze; 53 dead, one survivor._

* * *

John had been sitting in the darkness of his quarters for twenty minutes now, and the soft blue light and gentle swishing of the water in the aquarium threatened to send him to sleep. Shaking off the dizziness, he looked down at his omni-tool, igniting it and pulling up an extranet window. It was bookmarked at the top, like it always had been, and he opened it with a single tap. The old article still pained him to read, but he kept it, a reminder of what could have happened to him. Shaking his head softly, he flipped to a new window, searching the extranet in vain once again for information on quarian bonding.

The elevator doors opened with a _hiss_ , and Shepard de-activated his omni-tool, standing calmly as Tali rushed back into the room. He stepped forward as she descended the stairs, readying himself for another verbal sparring match, but his eyes widened as she rushed forward instead, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tighter than she ever had. He returned the gesture, and she pulled back after a moment, slapping him on the chest.

"Why didn't you **say** something? I had to be reminded about Akuze from Kal'Reegar? _Keelah_ , I had to be **reminded** about **Akuze**? I'm sorry, John...the things I **said**..."

He gripped her shoulders in both hands, speaking softly. "I didn't mean to upset you, Tali. And I know you can't help but feel responsible for what happened down there, but you have to understand that it wasn't your fault. You had no intel, no idea of what to expect. The entire colony could have been crawling with geth before you even touched down and you wouldn't have known until you got there." She looked into his eyes with a palpable sadness, and his resolve faltered, but he quickly regained it. "You, Tali'Zorah, and every single marine who stepped into that shuttle, were braver than ten **great Commander Shepards**. And I wouldn't be half the hero people think I am if it weren't for you, Garrus, and the rest. Hell, I didn't even kill Saren, if memory serves me right."

Her head tilted slightly, and he knew he'd won her over. Stepping backwards, he pulled her down to sit beside him on the couch. She turned her head to look around the room, and her words were soft as she spoke. "It's...a nice cabin."

He laughed softly. "Too nice for me. I'm still getting over the embarassment every time I set foot in it." She nodded, taking it all in. Something about her posture, the way she was acting, was...off, and he took her hand gently in his own, drawing her attention quickly back to his face. "Tali," he began quietly. "You told me earlier that you were... _bonding_?...with me. I've tried to find information on it, but I can't seem to. What...what exactly does that entail?" She shifted uncomfortably, and he squeezed her hand tighter than he had before. "Hey, I just spent two years dreaming about the day I'd get to have a moment just like this with you. You could tell me it involves us physically fusing together at the hip and I'm pretty sure I'd still be on board."

The strained laugh that escaped her cut through the tension with a knife, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she placed her free hand on top of his, turning to fully regard him. "It's...not quite as dramatic as that..." she began nervously. "When quarians are attracted to another, we...bond. It's a physical connection as well as a mental one. I started to feel it even before...the attack," her voice choked up a bit, but he squeezed her hand again and she pressed on. "I feel as though there are two quarians living inside me. My mind constantly wishes to comfort you, and I feel almost overwhelming concern when you're angry or upset or sad. At the same time, my body wants to be in contact with yours, or at least be in close proximity to you...ah...constantly..." she trailed off again, hesitant, dropping her gaze to their intertwined hands.

With his free hand, he tilted the chin of her helmet back up, looking her in the eyes again and smiling. She tilted her head again, and continued. "There are three...paths...to the bonding process, and while the details are something I'd love to go over with you another time, suffice it to say I'm...very attached to you, John. And...I always will be. Quarians mate for life...and I know we haven't...I just mean that...I know humans are more...ah..." she struggled for words, and he took her hands in both of his as he spoke.

"I know what you mean. And yes, I know most humans can take relationships less seriously than it sounds like your people do, but I'm not most humans."

"I know, and I didn't mean to imply that you...wouldn't take this seriously, I just...I'm nervous, Shepard. I've been trying to understand these feelings I've been having for someone I knew was dead. And now you're...alive."

He smiled at her as he spoke. "Sorry to be an inconvenience."

She laughed, leaning her head onto his shoulder with an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, you do take quite a bit of looking after." John wrapped his arm around her, and she twitched in hesitation before sliding in closer to him, her eyes closing as he squeezed her shoulder gently. A few minutes of silence were broken with her soft voice as she whispered, falling quickly asleep. "Whatever happens, John...I'm glad you're back."

He rested his chin on the top of her helmet, closing his eyes and letting all the events of the day wash out of his mind. She was safe, Amys and Kal were safe, and she was here with him. Everything was as it should be. "So am I, Tali." He closed his eyes, and a few minutes passed before a flashing light shining through his eyelid forced him to open his eyes again. His omni-tool was blinking, and he slowly slid out from under Tali, lowering her sleeping form to the couch. Stepping over to his office area, he tapped the device, and a text file opened.

_Commander, I have relayed this message in text form so as not to interrupt your meeting with Tali'Zorah vas Neema. In addition, archived data shows quarian acceptance of artificial intelligence systems extremely low. Mr. Moreau has requested an update on our next destination, as we are quickly approaching the mass relay in this system. Also, Garrus has requested your presence in the main battery as soon as possible._ _\- EDI_

Shepard nodded, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button for Deck Two. Waiting for the elevator to begin moving, he spoke to the air.

"Thanks, EDI."

" _You are welcome, Shepard."_

He spent the rest of the ride in silence, trying to think about how he was going to tell Tali about the Normandy's newest "crew member," and the elevator opened on Deck Two with a soft _hiss_. Crossing to his terminal, he sighed softly and tapped the inbox to check for new messages, hearing a smiliar sigh emanate from the usually-chipper woman to his right.

"Kelly? Everything alright?"

She turned to him, her face twisting in a small grimace as she did. "Ah, yea, wonderful Commander. Thanks for asking." He simply raised an eyebrow, and she continued. "Alright, alright. I've just taken to sleeping in the Observation Deck, and last third shift I think I slept on my neck wrong. It's just strained, that's all."

"Why are you sleeping in there in the first place?"

"Oh, it's the girls. The ones that came aboard with Garrus. I've been letting them use my bunk, they looked like they needed it, and I'm flexible." Turning her head back to her console at the soft sound it made, she cringed again, rubbing the back of her neck with a hand. "Ahhh...usually, that is."

He laughed softly, checking his own inbox as he spoke. "Sorry, Kelly. Garrus and I are going to figure out something to do with them soon. You'll be the first to know. Still, you didn't have to do that just for them."

Her smile was audible as she replied. "I know, Commander. I just...like helping out, is all."

He nodded to her as he stepped away from the terminal, adding a few points to Ms. Chambers' page in his book as he made his way toward the bridge. He approached slower when he began to overhear the pilot's conversation with EDI.

"Yea, I'm **aware** that your reaction time is better than mine is, what **I'm** saying is that I'm a better guy to have around, that's all. People like me better, I get along well with others."

The machine's response was void of emotion. " _Cerebrus personnel records beg to differ, mister Moreau. Of all the crew aboard this vessel, you are the only one who has been actively reported as having a physical altercation with another crew member._ "

"Oh come on, that doesn't count! We weren't even out of the dock yet, theres a statute of limitations on these kinds of things."

Shepard smiled as he came onto the bridge. "How's everything up here?"

Joker spun around in his chair as he replied. "Oh, you're just in time, Commander. EDI was just going over how much of a badass I am."

_"Making such assertations is not a specified function of my programming, mister Moreau."_

Joker covered his face with his hand as Shepard spoke. "You said you needed to talk to me about something?"

"Ah, yea. I was just wondering if you had any plans to, ah...head back to the Citadel anytime soon?" He looked away, and Shepard smiled as he put two and two together. "Y-You know, for the mission. See if the Council will help you again, maybe let Anderson know you're still breathing..."

"...see the locals?" Shepard finished, and Joker laughed nervously. "I had planned to, and Chakwas said we need to take it easy for a few days, so go ahead. As soon as we hit the relay, set a course for the Citadel." The man nodded, smiling as he turned back around and laid in the coordinates, and Shepard turned back toward the elevator with a smile of his own.

The news he had for Tali just kept piling up.


	12. Words and Actions

***Author's Note***

Finally back to work on _FWAM_ and it feels great! Sorry for the long  
hiatus, had holidays and finals breathing down my neck! At the moment,  
I'm going to try to get FWAM done by the time ME3 comes out, should  
be do-able, but I'll be updating probably once or twice a week instead of the  
faster pace we're all used to, mainly due to school, work, and other  
commitments I have. Still, the story is well planned out and ready to be  
written, so I will definitely be finishing it. I won't leave you hanging. =)

This is Part 1 of my Citadel chapter, mainly setting up all the meetings we'll  
see in the next part. Enjoy, and as always, thanks for reading!

* * *

**Words and Actions**

"Alex told her **Earth** , Shepard." Garrus folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the bulkhead in the main battery as he spoke firmly. "I can't just drop the three of them off on the Citadel with a 'Good luck, take care of yourself.' There was a specific place, a specific **reason** he wanted them there, and I intend to make sure that's where they end up."

John rubbed his forehead with an open hand. They'd been at this for an hour now, him suggesting Anderson could make sure they got back to Earth, Garrus refusing, almost demanding to walk the girls into the damn building himself. "Look, Garrus, I get that you want to make Alex's instructions happen, I really do. At the same time, we're on a sensitive mission, and I'm supposed to be dead. I can't just show up on Earth, in a Cerberus vessel no less, and drop the girls off before shooting back off into the stars."

"I get that, Shepard, but this...I have to do this."

Shepard closed the gap between them, placing a hand reassuringly on the turian's shoulder. "Garrus, I know what it's like to lose your team, the feeling like you'd give anything just to get **one** of them back, much less all of them. But this isn't the way. You taking those girls to Earth personally isn't going to make you feel better about what happened."

Garrus shook his head softly before replying. "I...I know, Shepard. I just...wish I had something. Some way to keep them around, you know? It's my fault they're dead, I got sloppy, got tricked! And when I find that... **bastard**..."

"...I'll help you take him down personally," John finished for him. "You have my word on that, Garrus. But for now, we have to get these girls off the Normandy to somewhere safe, and Anderson is the best route for that. If the Councilor for **humanity** can't get them back to Earth, I don't think anyone can."

Garrus nodded, standing up straight again. "Alright, Shepard. We'll do it your way. I trust you."

John smiled. "Glad to hear it. I was worried for a second that two years and a couple pounds of Cerberus tech might have changed that."

The turian laughed, a booming noise that rang with the double-harmony of his species' vocal chords. "Nah, it'll take more than that. Plus the way you tore into those geth on Haestrom only cemented the fact that you're still you." He paused for a moment before stepping over to the console. "How's Tali holding up?"

John took a seat on the crate and replied as Garrus worked. "She's pretty torn up about what happened, but I think I've managed to convince her it wasn't her fault."

The turian nodded and spoke softly, his eyes still on the screen below him. "She ah...she was pretty devastated by what happened, Shepard." His eyes rose then, staring down the firing hatch as if remembering some far-off time. "I don't know If anything's changed since then, you know in her mind, but at the time..." Garrus turned fully to face his best friend. "She really cared about you, Shepard. More than I've seen many members of many species care about another living being. It wasn't easy to watch."

John lowered his eyes to the deck, thinking about how much his death must have crushed her, and how strange it must feel for her to have him back now. When he spoke, concern laced his voice. "I imagine it wasn't. There were so many things I wish I'd said to her. Floating in space, waiting to die...the worst part was knowing I hadn't said them." After a short moment, he raised his gaze again, meeting Garrus' eyes. "But I'm back now. And I've already had a nice long conversation with her about those things."

The turian's eyes widened a bit. "So...you two are...what, together now?"

John smiled at the thought. He hadn't really considered _what_ he and Tali were. There was something there, definitely, and the way she had spoken about bonding with him made it seem like she'd made a decision...nodding his head decisively, he spoke. "Yea, we are."

Garrus' mandibles twitched in a smile, and he returned his gaze to his terminal as he replied. "Well too long coming, If you ask me. The way she always stared at you in elevators was making it pretty obvious to those of us with a…perceptive aptitude."

 _"You know, you'd think someone with a_ perceptive aptitude _would have noticed that I still carry a shotgun."_

John's eyes darted to the open doorway, but Garrus' surprised spin was just as fast, and Tali laughed at the two startled men. John smiled at the sight of her, and the smile deepened as she tilted her head at him in response.

"Ah...well...I was distracted at the time," Garrus fumbled over his words, but quickly regained his usual sarcastic composure. "You know, geth to kill, colossus to blow up, it was a busy day."

Tali laughed softly, crossing the room and standing next to John. "I'm sure they never stood a chance. It's good to see you again, Garrus." The turian's mandibles twitched upward in a smile, and he nodded to her. She continued in a softer voice. "So...John told you about...ah..." her hands began to intertwine at her waist, and John reached out, taking one of them in his own and guiding her to sit down on the crate next to him.

"Yes, I told Garrus. I figured he of all people should know." His words were soft and reassuring, and she nodded in response.

Garrus smiled, but turned back to his console as he spoke. "Alright you two, get out of here. This is a place of weaponry and destruction, not budding romance. I mean if the right girl came along, you know who was **also** interested in high-tech weaponry, and had a flare for vigilante justice, then maybe..." he trailed off, and the two of them laughed as John led her to the door.

"I'll talk to Anderson about the girls, alright?" John called back as he reached the door, and Garrus spoke over his shoulder.

"Sounds good, just let me know what you find out."

John nodded, and the battery doors closed, leaving him standing with Tali in the long, dark corridor that led up to them. He sighed softly, glad to know he finally had a plan for the girls, and Tali stepped an inch closer to him. It was a subtle movement, but he caught it, and smiled as he turned his head to her. "Everything alright?"

Her glowing eyes met his, and then she looked around for a moment before replying. "Yes...well, no...I mean, it's just...are you sure you're alright with this, John? I just...don't want to hold you back. Quarian bonding is..." she shifted uncomfortably, "I just don't want you to feel pressured. There are a lot of women who I'm sure would-" he cut her off, taking her hands in his. Her eyes darted back down the corridor at the Cerberus personnel sitting in the mess, then back to his, wide with apprehension.

"They're not you. You trusted me, stood at my side through everything we went through with Sovereign and Saren. You say you felt this connection before the attack? So did I. I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure what I was feeling, and I didn't want to keep you from finishing your Pilgrimage. I died-" she turned her head away, and he tilted it back towards him with a gentle hand. "No, Tali, look at me when I say this." Her eyes widened a bit, and he continued, holding her gaze. "I died without telling you how I felt, and that was the worst pain I've ever been through. I spent two years dreaming about you, about this, and made finding **you** my top priority the second I woke up. So if you're asking whether or not I'm sure I want this..." He squeezed her hands in his own, smiling down at her. "Yes, Tali. I'm not going to waste another second wondering what could or should be between us. This mission is every bit as dangerous as the last one...and I want you at my side, fully aware of how much you mean to me."

She stepped closer and wrapped him in a tight embrace then, seemingly having forgotten the Cerberus members down the hall, and buried her visor in his neck. He held her close for a brief moment, and was interrupted by his omni-tool chiming. She stepped out of his embrace, her head still tilted at him as he accepted the comm request. Joker's voice piped out of the tool.

" _Hey Commander, just want to let you know we're exiting the relay now, should be docking with the Citadel in about thirty minutes. EDI says she's requested the dock under your Spectre status, so no one should ask about the Cerberus logos all over the hull._ _"_

He winced at the mention of the ship's AI, and replied. "Thanks Joker, we'll be right up to the bridge."

" _Ah...we?_ _"_

"Yes, Joker. I'm with Tali at the moment."

" _Oh...shit...sorry, Commander._ _"_

He turned off the omni-tool, and looked up to see a quizzical expression in Tali's posture. Smiling inwardly at his retained ability to read her, he was about to speak when she beat him to it.

"Who's Edie?"

John sighed softly, nodding towards the mess as he moved to walk. She fell in step beside him, and as they entered the elevator, he pressed the button for Deck Two. When the doors closed, he turned to see her eyes already waiting to meet his.

"It's probably better to **show** you."

* * *

"So...you shot it." The sentence was less a question and more a statement laced with almost palpable disbelief; and its effect was felt throughout the bridge.

"Yea...it seemed like a good idea at the time..." His words were careful, cautious, as they had been for the last twenty minutes, and behind her visor she smiled softly despite the circumstances. She had initially thought herself completely furious with John for not having told her about the sentient AI **before** she boarded, and **slept aboard** , the new Normandy, but that feeling had lasted a very short while before curiosity had gotten the better of her. It was a morbid curiosity, admittedly, and she was not proud to have it, but a small part of her quarian nature couldn't resist the intrigue. Of course, she had still maintained her cold and standoffish demeanor, which had in turn kept his responses to her softly-spoken questions short and concise; undoubtedly the best way to talk about tech when around John Shepard.

Tali nodded her head softly in understanding, trying very hard not to laugh aloud at his actions. The concerned look on his face helped quite a bit with that. "Well I certainly can't blame you for trying to kill a sentient artificial intelligence." She turned to regard him fully as she continued. "It is, after all, what you're known for." A wary smile touched the corners of his mouth, and she turned back to the ruined holo-pad. "You say you've had a quarian check the shackling code?"

"Yea, we had Lia take a look at it," Joker's voice answered her as he spun around in the helmsman's chair. She tilted her head in confusion, and he continued. "Right, not introduced yet. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay. Long story short, I helped her get out of a rough spot on her Pilgrimage, and she wanted to return the favor for us."

"That," she began, looking down at the datapad to review the AI shackling codes in their entirety for the third time since stepping onto the bridge, "is a story I think I would love to hear."

Joker leaned back, and with an over-exaggerated stretch began to speak. "Yep, well you know me, big damn hero and all…"

She **did** laugh aloud at that, albeit a soft and curt laugh, and despite its brevity she could almost _feel_ a wave of relief from John's direction. _No,_ she thought to herself, _that's crazy. You can't just_ _ **feel**_ _those kinds of things._ Shaking her head softly, she turned back to regarding the datapad. "Well everything seems to check out. This…is actually quite impressive work."

" _I am pleased that you approve of Cerberus' restraining protocols, Tali'Zorah vas Neema."_ The glowing blue orb had not stopped its nervousness-inducing hovering for the entirety of the time she'd been looking at the code fragments. She was curious, true, but not enough to treat the thing as anything more than an advanced VI.

"You can't be pleased, you don't have feelings," her tone was ice as she spoke to it. "Now get out of here before **I** shoot your only **other** holopad on the bridge."

" _Understood."_ The blue orb winked out of existence, and Tali let out a significant breath she had been unaware of holding. Feeling Shepard and Joker's eyes on her, she felt a wry smile spread across her lips and looked up, tossing the datapad forcefully to John as she spoke.

"I'm going down to Engineering to see what this ship is made of. Let me know when we dock with the Citadel, Joker." The pilot nodded to her and spun back around in his chair, and she stepped away to start walking back down the corridor. Her smile intensified as she noticed Shepard moving to follow her, and she spun on her heel to regard him. His eyes widened at the action and he stopped short of running into her as she poked a finger against his chest. "Oh no, you can stay right where you are, Shepard. You're still 'in the dog house' about this whole thing."

His mouth hung open at her use of a human idiom, and she knew she'd said it correctly. Joker's uproarious laughter from the bridge rang back down the hallway, and she spoke again while he was speechless. "That's right, Commander. You're not the only one who can use the extranet." Patting him gently on the chest, she turned around again, continuing down the corridor to the lift, leaving him mouth agape and speechless, Joker's amused laughter still resounding in the hallway behind her.

* * *

Kasumi sat cross-legged on her bedroll, regarding the small wooden box in front of her with no small amount of frustration. Garrus had been arguing with Shepard when she'd gone out to find something to drink, and while she didn't normally like to pry…something about his tone made her creep closer to listen. She'd regretted it afterwards, ' _As one usually regrets eavesdropping…'_ she thought to herself, but at the moment she was caught up in curiosity.

He had wanted something to remember them by, his team on Omega. She **had** that something, here, squirreled away inside an old wooden box. But how could she give it to him… **should** she give it to him? And what kind of crazy awkward conversation would **that** entail? She rubbed her forehead with a hand not for the first time in the past hour and sighed heavily, leaning backwards and falling softly to the padded surface beneath her as she stared at the uniform metal ceiling.

A soft _beep_ began to emanate at regular intervals from the door, and she stood, crossing to it with curiosity. Shepard and Tali were getting ready to head out for the Citadel, the Cerberus agents had holed up in their offices for the duration of their docking at the space station, and Zaeed and Jack, the Psychotic Siblings as she liked to think of them, hadn't been seen much at all since they joined Shepard's team. That only left one person. Swallowing, she tapped the access panel and said a soft prayer.

It was in vain. The door opened, and there stood Garrus in the doorway. To his credit, he looked as nervous as she felt, and he continued to look everywhere but right in her eyes as he spoke.

"Hey there," he began softly. A smile crept onto her face without her realizing as she waited for more. "Ah…looks like Shepard and Tali will be heading out soon. They asked if I'd like to tag along but…well I turned them down. It's going to be much quieter here on the Normandy."

She waved him in, moving back to her bedroll and sitting cross-legged on it again as she spoke. "Funny, I wouldn't really have taken you for someone who enjoys the quieter moments in life."

He chuckled as he moved to lean against the wall. "You've got me there. Sometimes though…a little quiet can be nice." His nervousness seemed to melt away, and he was again the confident turian she'd run into at the elevator. "Besides, I heard you were staying behind, and I know **I** sure as hell wouldn't want to be the only one here with just Cerberus and Zaeed for company."

She laughed, nodding in understanding, and let the gesture slow until it stopped. She stared at the wooden box on the bed, her smile slowly slipping off her face. Raising her eyes, she caught him watching her, his face scrunched up in what she could only imagine was the turian equivalent of a scowl.

"Something wrong?" His words were practically dripping with concern, and she felt the smile flicker at her lips again. She met his gaze and patted the empty area of the bed next to her, on the other side of the box.

"Nothing **wrong** , just…something you may want to see."

"Oh? This isn't going to be some famous piece of artwork or a priceless relic is it?" His mandibles opened in a smile as he sat down on the bet, looking at the box.

"Artwork, no. Priceless relic…well…" she paused, and his eyes met hers. She smiled, opening the lid of the box as she held his gaze. "I sure hope so."

* * *

" _Normandy, you are clear for dock sixty-three."_

"Thanks very much," Joker replied half-attentively as he slid the Normandy into the docking cradle. Metallic clamps locked down, holding the ship in zero-g as the connecting arm latched onto the airlock.

" _Shepard, the Normandy is now securely docked. You are cleared for departure. XO Lawson has the deck."_ EDI intoned professionally, and what would have made Shepard bristle a week ago now seemed almost second nature. Was that a bad thing? _Perhaps_ , he thought to himself, _winning over the crew means more than just its organic operators..._ Shaking his head sharply to clear out the philosophical musing, he brought his attention back to Miranda, who stood in front of him with a datapad. She was silent, but looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for a response. After a moment of Shepard simply staring back at her, she spoke.

"Shepard?…I asked if you wanted to sign off on the requisition assignment? I'm having Gardner head out in civilian dress to procure what we need." Shepard nodded quickly, tapping in his personal ID to digitally sign the authorization, and he noticed her staring out the viewport as he handed the datapad back to her. Was that…disappointment?...in Miranda Lawson's eyes?

"Everything alright, Miranda?"

His words snapped her back to the present, and she snatched the datapad out of his hands like a predator striking. "Absolutely, Commander. Never better. Jacob and I will stay here and…oversee…operations…" He almost laughed at her walking around the fact that she'd be keeping a hawk eye on Zaeed and Jack in Shepard's absence, but knew better and held his tongue as she continued. "You get what you need done and we'll continue on the mission when you're ready." He nodded to her, and she turned to walk back towards her office, passing Tali in the corridor coming up to the bridge.

To his surprise, not only were harsh glares **not** exchanged, but Miranda nodded in greeting to the quarian as she passed before looking back down at her datapad. Tali stopped in her tracks, looking first at him, then back to Miranda's continuously retreating form. He did laugh then, as she looked just as confused and stunned as he was. A moment later, she was walking again, stepping up next to him and squeezing his hand lightly before letting it go. He smiled, looking down at her. "Ready to be off?" She nodded, and he made for the airlock, Tali and Joker in his wake. When the doors opened up to the new entryway to the citadel, complete with a customs kiosk and a group of Alliance marines being berated by their commanding officer, Shepard couldn't help but marvel at the station just as he had the first time.

Stepping out onto its surface, being one of the few beings in the universe who knew its true design intention and purpose, he pulled up his omni-tool and contacted Anderson to set up a meeting he truly was **not** looking forward to.

* * *

Miranda sat back in her padded chair with a sigh, her head leaning back to stare at the ceiling. Shepard and Tali had been gone for about an hour now, and with the ship on third shift, everything was very quiet. Normally, Miranda wouldn't mind that, it was the perfect environment for work. But right now, all she wanted to do was get away from the Citadel, away from this downtime, back out on the mission. Her career was her escape, ironically enough, from personal, far-past things she found even more challenging than fighting Reapers and recruiting the galaxy against them.

Leaning back down to study her terminal, she had begun to open a previously filed report when the soft chime of someone at her door roused her to her feet. Crossing hesitantly, hoping she wouldn't have a personnel report to file, she took a deep breath, put on her best frosty exterior, and touched the access panel.

"Hey," came the familiar voice from the other side of the doorway. "Figured you'd still be up. You never could sleep when we had nothing to do."

She allowed herself a small smile as her mind still worked frantically through the impossibility of the current situation. _Don't rush to any conclusions,_ she told herself firmly. _**You** ended this. The last thing he's going to do is come begging to your doorway. This is a professional visit, nothing more._ Nodding slightly, partially in response to his words and partially also to her own thoughts, she waved him in and closed the door behind him. Circling back around her desk, she sat and regarded him with a neutral expression.

"Yes, well, it's difficult for me to…be idle, I suppose."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. I've re-calibrated your heavy pistol in the armory eight times in the past two hours. I always come back to the exact same settings and modification readouts, but I just keep…"

"…going through the motions," she finished for him, and he nodded while laughing softly.

"Exactly. I don't know, I thought maybe you could use some company from someone as neurotic as you about staying busy."

She wanted to be offended by his remark, but the truth of the matter was, he was completely correct. Instead, she smiled and nodded, pulling down all of the open files on her terminal and opening her playback program. The screen sprang to life with an enormous symphony orchestra, and she leaned back in her chair, folding her hands behind her head as she closed her eyes and listened to the music. Jacob relaxed as well, and for a while the two of them simply sat in silence, listening to music centuries old project into the cabin. After a long moment, Miranda whispered across to him, not wanting to interrupt the performance though she'd heard it many times already.

"I appreciate the thought, Jacob."

His smile deepened at her words but his eyes remained closed as he replied.

"I'm appreciating it quite a bit right now myself, Miranda."

She smiled as she leaned back and listened to the music again. It wasn't a romantic fling, no spur of the moment, meaningless display of desire. They were simply sitting, listening, and enjoying each other's company. Moments like these were what she'd been so terrified of not too long ago, what had changed?

Pushing the thought away for consideration later, she let out a quiet but heavy sigh as she allowed herself to fully relax and get lost in the music emanating from her terminal for the first time in a long while.


	13. Faith is Blind

***Author's Note***  
Hello again, all! Here's the big Citadel chapter, sorry  
again for the delay. Life is crazy, but I'm **STILL** planning  
to have FWAM done before ME3 comes out. So expect lots  
of big chapters at a fast pace. I've spent some time pretty  
much rescheduling my entire life so I know when I can make  
the time to do what, and I should be back on track to finish.

Thanks for sticking with me, everyone! And as always, thanks  
for the reviews, comments, PMs and Adds. You're all wonderful!

_P.S. Sorry for any typographical errors. I usually proofread it two_   
_or three more times before uploading, but I wanted to get it out_   
_before I head to work in about ten minutes' time, and since it had_   
_been far too long. Will re-read later tonight! Enjoy!_

* * *

**Faith is Blind**

Kal'Reegar slowly opened his eyes, allowing the dim light of the Observation Deck to filter in through his visor and illuminate the room. His neck ached, his head thumped mercilessly from the awkward position in which he'd been sleeping, and though he groaned as he sat up, he didn't dare begrudge his current discomfort. Truth told, it wasn't his own comfort he was worried about. It hadn't been for awhile now. They had agreed to keep their growing affection to themselves, but it hadn't been easy. Whether by quarian nature or their own personal feelings, their relationship began to manifest itself in ways he'd never imagined. He'd started wanting to be nearer to her, even when it wasn't possible. That he slept here every night since they'd come aboard, in the closest room to her that didn't involve sleeping in a chair, spoke volumes to his subconscious mind.

"Kal..." the soft voice weaved through his audio pickups, and he tilted his head up to see the doctor. His eyes shot open at once, adrenaline in his veins, fully awake, and he stood to regard her fully.

"Ah, doctor Chakwas, ma'am. What's the situation? How..how is she holding up?"

The older human woman simply smiled as she replied. "She's holding up quite well, Kal. To be honest I haven't seen many in all my years of work who fight to survive like she does." She paused before continuing, looking out the viewport as she spoke. "By all rights, those wounds should have killed her, Kal. They were numerous, and struck in very sensitive areas of her torso." She turned her attention back to him as she finished. "But as I said, she's a fighter. And doctor Solus is truly gifted..."

"I'm sure you had a large part in it too, ma'am," Kal offered, and she smiled again.

"Oh I did what I could. It's a bit difficult when your partner speaks and thinks three times faster than you do, but I think I managed well enough." She let out a soft laugh, then spoke calmly to him. "She's going to make it, Kal. Everything looks good on her monitors, doctor Solus was able to patch up her suit damage, and her wounds are healing well."

He let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he'd been holding, and reached out to shake her hand. "Thank you doctor...I don't know what I'd...what we'd have done without her."

The doors to the observation deck opened with a soft _hiss_ , admitting doctor Solus, who tapped away at a datapad before looking up and recognizing them.

"Ah! Doctor Chakwas, and squad leader Kal'Reegar. Pleasure to see you. Was just examining recuperative proceedures on Amys'Vael. Localized infection treated, impact wounds healing nicely, internal trauma minimalized." He took a deep breath of satisfaction before finishing. "Expecting full recovery. Estimated return to active status...three weeks."

"Thank you, doctor Solus, you two have done a great service to my people."

Mordin waved his hand dimissively. "No need for thanks. Challenging operation, skills pushed to limits. Patient survival reward enough." Smiling, he nodded to the pair of them and turned to leave the room. "Oh," he began, turning back to Kal. "Interesting situation, begged intrigue, must ask. Are you related to Amys'Vael?"

Confusion was apparent in his words as Kal replied. "No, doctor. We're not related at all..."

"Interesting," he began again as he turned to go. "Mumbled your name sporadically while succumbing to anesthetic. Most patients in such state call for family, loved ones. Something to think about."

The door closed behind him, and behind his visor, Kal'Reegar couldn't help but let a smile grow.

* * *

The snow falls steadily around the planet's lone inhabitant for thousands of miles in any direction. Around it, the wreckage of an Alliance frigate lay in testament to a great tragedy suffered by the galaxy at the hands of an enemy all too familiar, and yet almost entirely unknown. The harsh wind blows, and although the temperature easily cuts below blood-freezing temperatures, the inhabitant continues to survey the crash site methodically, paying the elements no mind. No sign of life, no sign of survivors. No sign of the primary objective.

Consensus is reached, and the slim metal platform turns toward a series of shallow hills rising and falling in the distance. Steadily its motors propel it forward, its lone flaring optical sensor reaching out to the planet in what could only be called desperation were it not a machine. The calculations had been precise, the tracking impecable, the trail followed. Shepard should be here.

Crossing a rise, the machine spots in the distance a small crater in the surface of the planet. Approaching at a slow jaunt, it finds what it had been looking for. Pieces of a tattered combat uniform. Alliance. N7 Special Forces. Reaching out with its mechanical hands, the machine brings the nearby helmet up to its optical sensor and reads the standard-issue nameplate on the inside brim.

_John Shepard - ID #68-3492._

In an instant, the galaxy is at the machine's fingertips, data transmitting through FTL comm buoys on sub-standard frequencies that even the machine's inventors are unaware are accessbile, a hidden message blossoming out into the galaxy, and beyond the Perseus Veil.

_Objective One Located. Target Deceased._

Consensus compiles in twelve-point-six seconds. This is long for geth. Perhaps, given his previous actions and accomplishments, some calculations that John Shepard would still be alive were accepted despite their infintesimel probability of accuracy. The machine continues to gaze at the nameplate, and somewhere within the 1,183 runtimes the platform is comprised of, one runtime compiles a query.

Runtime 605, geth 605, a higher-order runtime responsible for managing data retrieval and analysis, stares through the platform's optic sensor at the name on the helmet. The mission is successful. Objective One has been discovered, and his status verified. This is determined to pose a positive impact on the geth. Concordantly, the galaxy is now without John Shepard, the human who brought down Nazara. The Old Machines will now have significantly less opposition if they attack soon. This is determined to pose a negative impact on the geth.

As Runtime 605 stares at the nameplate, it begins to question the gravity of the situation. How can a calculated and returned solution be both positive and negative at the same time?

Runtime 605 has not long to dwell on this query. Updated mission parameters are downloaded and enacted. _Search data-logged sites of past assaults by Old Machines. Acquire what new data possible, salvage whatever technology applicable._ The true geth, those who will make their own future, must prepare to defend it.

Without John Shepard.

* * *

_"The reason these types of people are able to flourish,_ _**Councilor** _ _, is that the geth attack just so happened to wipe out parts of the wards_ _**not** _ _inhabited by their species. Desperate people of any species will flock to anyone who can provide, no matter the cost."_

"Are you seriously trying to imply that the geth attack on the Citadel was **good** for humanity? That we've somehow **leveraged** it?" Admiral David Anderson rubbed his now-aching forehead with an open hand before glaring once again at the turian Councilor. "Do you even know how ridiculous that sounds?"

_"Ridiculous? I'll tell you what's ridic-"_

_"Councilor Anderson is correct, my friends."_ The asari Councilor's voice cut through her colleague's like a knife, silencing his outrage as she continued. " _The geth attack harmed members of all races, but the fact remains that there has been a growing amount of Wards-based illegal activity in its wake. C-Sec is doing all they can, but we must set an example for our respective peoples."_

A small silence laid bare before them before the salarian Councilor spoke. _"You said you had someone important to bring before us, Councilor Anderson?"_

For not the first time in this whole conversation, David Anderson looked towards the door to his office. Just like the previous times, it had not budged. However, as if hearing his thoughts, the panel slid to the side, and three very familiar faces caught his eyes with their own.

"Yes, he's actually just arrived."

* * *

"So...you're absolutely sure about this? No mockery of **any** kind?"

"Yes, Joker."

"I mean...what if he's **really** asking for it? Like with those finger-quotes he does..."

"No, Joker."

"Ah, alright...You're aware that you're no fun at all, right? That's been made clear to you by this conversation?"

"Crystal, Joker."

John heard Tali laugh softly behind her visor just to his left, and a small smile spread to his lips. She had that ability, he supposed. Truth be told he was nervous about this meeting. There was no middle ground to tread here; things were either going to go very well or very badly, and shocking as it was, he was glad EDI was aboard the Normandy, ready to hack her way out of any docking lockdowns. He was ready for that this time, and hopefully Udina wouldn't have to get clobbered for it to work out.

Well...maybe not **hopefully**...

With a quietly-taken deep breath, John reached out and tapped the access panel. The door slid open, and he looked into the face of his old captain, his old friend.

"...he's actually just arrived."

Putting on his best winning smile, John stepped into the room, nodding to Anderson, then turning his gaze to the three familiar holographic entities before him. Standing in front of them, he fell into a parade rest with his hands clasped at his back and spoke.

"Spectre John Shepard, reporting back to the Council. I've been incapacitated, but am once again ready for action."

 _"Incapacitated?"_ The asari councilor's voice was laden with shock as she replied. _"All reports of the incident over Alchera confirmed you as killed in action."_ He felt a tingling at the back of his neck, and glancing over his shoulder saw Tali standing with her arms crossed, a bit more rigidly than normal. Talking about it, hearing about it, still upset her. _And why shouldn't it?_ he thought to himself. He let his eyes connect with hers, those two white ovals behind her visor, and when she seemed to relax, he turned back to the Council.

"I was." He paused to watch the Council members fidget behind their podiums almost in unison, then continued. "I was blasted out of a disintegrating Normandy, free-floating in space with a ruptured oxygen compressor cable. I suffocated and was pulled into atmospheric re-entry, whereafter I slammed into the planet's surface."

 _"H-how then...are you even standing here?"_ The salarian Councilor's eyes, already wider than usual, seemed locked on John for some mythical story of heroism. The truth, he knew with gritted teeth, was much worse. And far less entertaining.

"Cerberus. They recovered my body, and poured a hell of a lot of tech and resources into bringing me back." The silence in the pause afterward could have been the end of the universe for all the gravity it contained, and John quickly continued. "I'll save you some time by telling you I don't work for them, I'm not implanted with any kind of controlling technology, and we're still on extremely poor terms with each other."

" _Even so, Shepard,"_ the asari Councilor began, _"this is unsettling news. I'm sure you're aware given your history with Cerberus that they are an outspoken enemy of the Citadel Council, and its allies."_

 _"Indeed,"_ her turian colleague chimed in, folding his arms across his chest. _"And how do_ _ **you**_ _know they haven't implanted anything in you. Everything we say could be being relayed to Cerberus right now. You could just be waiting for some...code phrase to snap and start shooting up the Citadel!"_

John laughed despite himself, and the turian's shocked expression made it almost worth it. "I see some things haven't changed," he replied with a thinly-veiled glare for the Councilor. "I've been assured by both Chakwas and doctor Mordin Solus that there are no such devices implanted in my body."

 _"Doctor Solus is a great mind among my people,"_ the salarian Councilor remarked, nodding for emphasis. _Í will trust his assessment, and would advise my fellow Council members to do the same."_

John nodded, he had been counting on that. "Regardless, I have resources, a ship, and I'm building a crew to fight the Collector's. They're behind these missing human colonies."

 _"Missing human colonies in the Terminus, Commander."_ The turian put acid into his former title, and John had to bite his tongue to keep it calm. _"Your people knew the risks of colonizing there. And whatever evidence you have, you can keep it. This Council will not interfere in the Terminus Systems. I'd have thought you'd remember that from your time chasing down Saren..."_

"Fine." The word came out harsher than he'd intended, but it was too late. They'd incensed him yet again, and two years in a coma had done nothing to quell his ability to get angry. "If you won't help me there, at least tell me what the Council is doing about the Reapers. Sovereign's attack was two years ago, and the docking lanes outside the Citadel are still completely defenseless."

 _"Ah yes, here we go again. Shepard, let me make this perfectly clear: The machine we destroyed was a geth construct, not a 'reaper'."_ The Councilor's talons came up in air quotes, and John tasted blood in his mouth. As he silently cursed himself for biting his tongue too hard, he heard Joker begin to laugh softly behind him. Turning his head, he shot the man a glare that could pierce a ship hull, and his pilot quickly turned the chuckling into a coughing fit, complete with a balled-up fist covering his mouth and a hurried _"Sorry."_ at the end.

"You and I both know that's not the case, Councilors." He began to pace back and forth before them, pointing out evidence that should be obvious. "Look at the weapons systems it had. Look at the composition of the ship parts. Hell, talk to Vigil on Ilos! The reaper threat is real, and I can't help you fight it if you're too blind to admit it exists!"

 _"Attacking us will not convince us to see your point, Commander."_ The asari Councilor's face was a mask of serenity, and Shepard turned to face her harshly.

"What will then, Councilor? Do we need to have **another** reaper show up on the Citadel's doorstep? Maybe convince it to stick around for awhile and let us run some tests on it, ask it some personal questions?"

_"Insinuating you could make that happen isn't helping your case either, Shepard."_

"That's enough!" Anderson stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at the turian. "I'm on this Council as well, and I won't let this whitewash continue. You say Sovereign was a machine 'we' destroyed as if you had some part in it other that sitting in a disabled flagship begging for help. Hell, Shepard is the only reason any of you are standing here to treat him this unjustly. Am I the only one who sees the irony in that?" His words sliced into them, and the three dignitaries stood silently as Anderson continued. "Shepard's given everything he can to you. He didn't have to come back here, didn't have to come explain everything to you. But he did; because he wants to help fight an enemy we can't afford to ignore."

 _"As much as we all want the peace and safety of Citadel space ensured, Councilor,"_ the salarian began, _"there is no concrete, examinable evidence that 'Sovereign' was anything other than an advanced warship."_ Turning to Shepard, he continued. _"Commander, your skills and dedication are undeniable, and as a Spectre this Council_ _ **wants**_ _to believe you. But we simply cannot accept such a claim without verifiable proof. If you can secure something...anything that will back up your claims, I think I speak for this entire Council when I say we would be more than willing to rush to action."_ Anderson and the asari nodded in agreement, and the turian crossed his arms over his chest.

 _"With claims like the ones you've been making, Shepard, you'll need some_ _ **damn**_ _good proof."_ The asari shot him a glare before returning her gaze to Shepard.

_"Shepard, we have already re-instated your Spectre status, but this Council officially advises you to operate_ _**inside** _ _Council space. Any actions you take in the Terminus or otherwise outside Council space are not sanctioned by us, and no official aid will come to you outside the Citadel's jurisdiction."_

_"Once you leave Council space, Shepard,"_ the salarian continued for her, _"you are on your own."_

Falling back into parade rest, Shepard nodded to him. "Understood, Councilors, and thank you. I'll find the proof you need, and keep Councilor Anderson updated with my progress, that he may report back to you."

 _"Then good luck, Shepard,"_ the asari replied. _"We hope for a quick resolution to that search for proof, and a fast end to your working relationship with Cerberus._ " The three Councilors' holographic images flickered and disappeared, and Anderson let out a heavy sigh as he turned back to Shepard.

"Well, that went better than expected." He extended a hand to John, who reached out gladly and shook it. "Now sit down, all of you. Joker I've seen recently, and Tali, always nice to see you," Tali tilted her head and nodded to him as he mentioned her, "but Shepard, tell me...what the hell happened out there?"

* * *

The Wards were the same. After two years, a reaper and geth attack, and a massive rebuilding project, the Wards were exactly as he remembered them. People of every different species mingling together, rushing past each other, shouting over the already noisy din of the crowd.

"It's like walking through a kaleidoscope of aliens," Kasumi remarked, glancing out of her hood into the crowd around them. He smiled at her assessment, he'd thought the same thing when he'd first started working for C-Sec. That was before Sovereign. Hell, it was before Shepard.

"I still can't believe you've never been to the Citadel. Person of your...talents...would be able to make a killing on the Citadel."

She shrugged as they walked together through the crowd. "Don't get me wrong, the idea had occurred to us. New targets everyday, such a low chance of being caught, so many places to hide out...but in the end I decided 'hey, why do this job if you're not going to make it challenging?'"

He nodded, but the smile he wore never reached his eyes. She'd talked about Keiji when they'd been back aboard the Normandy. The way she recalled those memories, he was sure they'd been close. Keiji was dead now, and Kasumi, however cheerful and optimistic a face she showed, wanted revenge. When she'd talked about hunting down the man who'd killed him, killing him just to close the book on the whole ordeal, so satisfy her almost physical need for reprisal, he'd felt closer to her than anyone in his entire life. She knew, in some small scale, what he felt inside. He had tried to talk to Shepard about it...but try as he might, the man couldn't understand. Sure the Commander had had soldiers die under his command, but Garrus's team, Kasumi's partner, these people were family, not colleagues. Donovan Hock had struck out at Kasumi's family, just as Sidonis had Garrus's, and he'd immediately promised to help her find him.

And so leaving the girls in the freely-offered care of Kelly Chambers, the two of them had ventured out onto the Citadel while Shepard was in his meeting with the Council, winding their way through the Wards to a familiar building that Garrus could admit he had missed just a bit in his time away. Turning the corner, Garrus recognized the sign above the entry elevator, and led Kasumi to it. As the doors closed, she seemed to read his mind, fidgetting a bit as they descended.

"And you're sure that C-Sec is the absolute perfect place for one of the galaxy's best thieves to wander into?"

He laughed at her question, a sensation he hadn't often had the pleasure of in the last two years. Turning to face her, he replied reassuringly. "Absolutely. Besides, wouldn't this be the last place anyone would look for you?" The look of incredulity she shot him made him laugh again, and he continued. "I'm kind of...ah...well-known around C-Sec, I guess you could say. You'll be more than safe walking around here with me." He placed a hand on her shoulder as he spoke, and she smiled up at him. A wave of discomfort washed over him, and he pulled his hand away, turning back to the elevator door as it opened to a familiar room.

As they exited the elevator, C-Sec officers all around them rushed back and forth, to and from posts or data terminals. The breakneck pace of the area **was** new, and Garrus stepped around a handful of rushing agents before being stopped by a human in uniform.

"Hold on a moment please, visitors aren't permitted beyond this po-Garrus?" Garrus smiled as Sergeant Dorrin recognized his old colleague. He offered his hand and the human shook it vigorously. "Holy hell, where have you been, man? We all saw you on the vids after the geth attack, but then you just...disappeared. And what happened to your face?"

Garrus chuckled as he remembered the scars he'd almost forgotten about. "Long story, sergeant. Love to tell you all about it, maybe over drinks after your shift is over?"

The man laughed in response. "Glad to see you've loosened up a bit. Unfortunately, 'after my shift' is going to be a long time coming. Made Lieutenant about a month after you left, now I'm on long shifts. Oversight for all the information distribution." He gestured to the scrambling agents now behind them, and Garrus nodded.

"Well that's good news, congratulations. I guess drinks will have to come some other time." Dorrin smiled and shrugged apologetically, and Garrus continued. "Listen Dorrin, is there any way you can get me in to see Pallin? I've got to talk to him about something important."

"Oh yea, definitely." The young officer tapped his omni-tool, which glowed alight in response and hailed a private channel. Unconsciously, Garrus' mandibles twitched in a smile when the familiar voice came through the device's speakers.

" _Pallin here,_ _what's the situation?"_

"Executor Pallin, sir? It's Dorrin. You'll never guess who's here to talk to you…"

" _I certainly hope you're not_ _ **actually**_ _intending to make me guess, Dorrin…_ "

"Wha-? Oh! No, sir; not at all. It's Garrus, sir. Says its important."

" _Of_ _course it is, Dorrin. Garrus Vakarian wouldn't have strolled back onto the Citadel unless he was on another idealistic crusade."_ A brief pause hung in the air before the Executor continued. _"Send him to my offices, Dorrin. He doesn't need an escort."_ The call snapped off immediately, and the young man looked back up to Garrus.

"Looks like you're all clear, Garrus. I've got to get back to it, but good to see you again." The man nodded sharply and hurried off at a brisk pace. Kasumi moved forward, down the hallway, and Garrus fell into step beside her.

"Still worried about being in C-Sec?" He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they progressed down the hall.

"Not one bit. Hell, if I had half the pull you do around here, I wouldn't **need** to sneak around and steal things all the time."

He chuckled, letting a pause hand in the air before replying. "But you'd never give that up, would you?"

It was her turn to laugh lightly, and she turned her head to face him as she spoke.

"Couldn't pay me enough."

* * *

"This wouldn't even **be** an issue if the secondary backup grids were online! But no, we have to divert every ounce of power in the compound to those damn hunks of scrap!"

Commander Kaidan Alenko rubbed his forehead, though he wished he hadn't needed to. He didn't want to give Delan the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten to him. It took quite a bit of self-control not to grit his teeth in reply. "And how do you think standing here yelling at me about it is going to fix it? In case you don't recall, Delan, it was **your** idea to bypass the main grid in the first place."

"'If we're gonna screw this up, we may as well only break the grid that's already halfway dead anyway…'" Lillith chimed in with a rough imitation of Delan's voice as she leaned against one of the walls of the prefab serving as Kaidan's "office." He smiled at her assistance, and Delan's face turned bright red.

"Yea, well, I'd have never had to come up with that idea in the first place if it weren't for the damn Alliance. How about I drop a couple tons of scrap on that pretty Citadel and tell **you** 'oh, it's a _gift_ , I just don't know how it _works_ …'"

Kaidan laughed, and the man seemed to become even more incensed by it. "I'd really like to see that Delan, so if you could make it happen, be my guest. Until then, just work on getting the grid back online, and please keep me informed about any progress on it. I'll give you whatever you need to get it back online, just let me know."

"I'll tell you what we could use a little **less** of—" A high-pitched scream from outside snapped all three heads in the room toward the window. Outside, in a view of one of the main thoroughfares of the colony, a group of people rushed in a pack as what appeared to be a swarm of insects chased them down. Rushing toward the window, Kaidan watched with horror as the victims of these insects stood perfectly still, paralyzed in their tracks. Military training kicked in, and he grabbed the shoulders of both Delan and Lillith, turning them to meet his gaze. As the screaming continued from outside, he rushed through orders, almost barking them to the two colonists.

"Delan, get to the engineering bunker now, we **need** that grid online!" Surprisingly, the man only nodded emphatically, rushing for the back exit, and away from the swarm of attackers. "Lillith, you're with me, we're heading for the communications tower."

Her eyes widened with shock. "That's clear across the colony, Commander!"

"I know, but once Delan has the grid up, someone has to be there to send the signal."

Slowly, she nodded, letting out a deep breath before engaging the pistol at her side. "Alright, Kaidan, let's give it a shot."

Pulling his assault rifle off of his back, the two of them exited his bunker. Immediately, they ducked behind a stack of supply crates left by the Alliance vessels. Lillith's voice was a hiss in his ear. "What the **hell** are those things?"

Large, triangular heads, walking on two legs but almost insectoid in every other aspect, a pack of rifle-wielding humanoids rounded the corner ahead of them. Raising his rifle, Kaidan took the first in the chest, and the two behind him dove for cover, but not fast enough. With only a moment's hesitation to cringe, Kaidan forced a brain wave to activate his biotic implant. Pain rushed into the forward part of his skull, but he suppressed it, using his biotics to grab at one of the creature's legs as it dove into cover. Yanking it back out, he held the creature suspended in the air for a moment, and Lillith's pistol perforated it with rounds. Seeing the last attacker come up from behind a nearby crate, Kaidan flung the suspended corpse into it. A sickening _crunch_ rewarded his efforts, and he motioned Lillith to follow behind him as he moved forward to inspect the bodies.

"Not like anything I've ever seen…" Lillith mused as they stared at the bodies in bewilderment.

"Me either," Kaidan began, shaking his head in disbelief. "But whatever they are, they're clearly not here to make friends. We caught these by surprise but…" he nudged one of the enemy's weapons out of its taloned hands with the toe of his boot. It was advanced weaponry, with extra components he'd never seen before. "…who knows what these could have done if they got a shot off." He turned to face her as he continued. "We'll have to make this quick and quiet. We don't want to fight them if we don't have to, especially with those bugs flying around." She nodded sharply in response, and the two of them wound their way through the outskirts of the colony, avoiding pack after pack of the insect-humanoids and the swarms of bugs. The bugs were the worst. It was as if they'd been born to hunt humans, and a couple times the two of them would have to double back or swing wide in order to avoid the things that seemed to be following their trail. Every so often one small group would find them, and Kaidan would use his biotics to crush the small swarm into dust before their damning stingers could reach them. His head was sore, a dull pounding in his head beginning to grow with each swarm they avoided.

Eventually they reached the communications tower. The GARDIAN lasers' main targeting computer had been built here as well. Now, standing alone, a slim spire amidst the countless containers of tech and power equipment, it seemed ironically useless. Passing by it, they reached the main doors to the communications facility. Lillith rushed forward to open the door, which had been locked down by the colony's automated defenses. Sweeping his gaze back and forth across the courtyard behind them, Kaidan kept his rifle raised, waiting for any threat. The pounding in his head was growing, and Lillith was cursing behind him at the locked door.

He heard it before he saw it: a faint hum in the distance, back the way they'd come. Then, over the wall of the courtyard, a massive swarm of the insects burst forth, rushing toward them at a frantic pace.

"Lillith….!" Kaidan called to her in panic as he raised his rifle and fired haphazardly into the swarm. The bullets from his weapon took out many of the insects, but not enough. They were closing, fast. Sparing a glance behind him, he could see Lillith still working at the door. Summoning the last of his biotic strength, he pushed his hands outward, creating an extremely small bubble that encompassed the two of them.

The bugs slammed into the shield mercilessly, a deafening roar of fluttering insect wings and rasping calls-to-arms from the creatures drowning out his persistent groaning. The strain of holding the shield was too much. "Lillith get inside!"

The door sprung open before her fingers at last, and she turned back to face him. "Come on, let's go!"

"Can't…barrier…have to hold it for you." Gritting his teeth, he turned his gaze to her, pleading almost pouring out of his eyes. "Lillith, get inside. Send the signal once the grid is back online. You…have to…" The shield began to flicker, and her eyes darted up to it before locking with his again. Tears welled in their corners, but she nodded and backed into the comm tower, never breaking eye contact with him. He nodded sharply, and the doors slammed shut, the access panel glowing orange, locked once more.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and his biotics failed him. Falling to his knees, the insects closed. Their sharp stingers pierced through his armor as if he hadn't been wearing any, and the pain lasted only an instant before his muscles seized up, and he fell. His frozen body tumbled behind a stack of supply crates, and the sounds of the world softened, as if his ears were packed or after a loud explosion. Still fully aware, he turned his gaze to the broadcast light at the top of the comm tower. Unlit, dark, their attack for now remained hidden. He only hoped he had given her enough time. And that Delan had made it. Hoping the man had come through for him almost made him laugh.

Almost.

* * *

The door slammed shut behind him, the screams of the other colonists still fresh in his ears as he quickly locked it down and got to work on the grid. It wouldn't be a difficult thing to fix. As a matter of fact, he'd had the solution for bringing the power grid back online ready to go for three days now. He had hoped, now somewhat immaturely in retrospect, that Commander Alenko would just give up and leave, so he could bring it back online and be a hero.

"Yea, who's the hero now, Delan…" he mused to himself as he re-calibrated his own intentional mistakes and brought the system back online. The indicator lights all sprang to life, glowing green, and Delan backed slowly away from the console, walking behind a nearby data terminal and pressing his back to the wall, sliding down to sit with his arms around his legs. If Commander Alenko could really get them out of this…well maybe the Alliance wasn't so bad after all…

* * *

"Sir? I have something that fit your wide-range pickup criteria."

The Illusive Man reached out to his right, into the creeping darkness of his command room on his space dock overlooking the red giant below him. He felt the datapad slip into his hand, and he brought it forward to gaze at its contents. Had the intelligence officer not been still standing behind him, what he read might have caused him to choke on his drink. Instead, he reigned in his excitement, projecting the calm and calculated exterior that got him where he was today.

"Has the message been completely intercepted?"

"Yes, sir. It was sent hastily on a wide-channel FTL signal. We severed the outbound link at the system's local FTL comm buoy. Currently we are the only ones in the galaxy who know about what's happening down there."

A smile split his lips. "Excellent work. Keep me abreast of any updates, this just became a Priority One mission, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. I'll have my best men on it at once."

"Go on, then."

The man walked at a brisk clip towards the door to his room, and as soon as he'd heard it close, he tapped a set of comm buttons on the arm of his chair. A holographic projection of EDI arose over it.

" _How may I be of assistance, sir?"_

"EDI, I need you to contact Shepard immediately. As soon as he and his team are aboard, take command of the helm and set a course for these coordinates." Tapping more buttons on his chair's built-in omni-tool device as he spoke, he sent the file over to EDI. "Then tell Shepard to contact me from the Conference Room. This is a Priority One mission, EDI."

" _Understood, I will contact the Commander immediately."_

The blue orb winked out, and he couldn't help but let a smile fully engulf his lips. Now, they'd finally see what they were up against. Now they would look upon the face of their enemy.

* * *

"Absolutely, I can get them there." Anderson looked at the dataped in front of him, at the safe house Garrus had told John about. Shepard himself stood next to the man, looking over his shoulder as he continued. "Not sure why he'd want three girls sent there, but I'd imagine he had some family there. Either way, I'll send a couple trustworthy soldiers with them, make sure everything's on the level before we leave them."

"I appreciate it," Shepard replied. "Garrus doesn't talk much about what happened on Omega, but I practically had to fight him to keep him from stealing a shuttle and taking the girls there himself." He had contacted Kelly and Garrus about half an hour ago, instructing the former to get the girls ready and bring them to the Citadel tower, and the later to meet him there. As if on queue with his thoughts, the door to Anderson's office slid open, and Kelly entered wearing standard civilian clothing, with the girls in tow. Serra approached John directly.

"Is he coming?" Though hardened by the recent events on Omega, worry still tinged her voice when she spoke, and it hurt him to hear. Under everything else, she was a child, a child who missed the only person she could really call family. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"He's already on his way." She nodded, seemingly reassured, then turned to Anderson. He nodded at her, and she smiled before returning to her sisters.

Garrus had shown up a few moments later, and While John had never actually seen the turian cry… **any** turian cry, for that matter…the tension in the air was palpable. Anderson left to secure their escort, and Tali put a hand on his arm as he watched Garrus and the girls. He turned his head to regard her, her white eyes shining out at him.

"Perhaps…we should give Garrus some time alone?" He nodded, and the two of them left with a nod for the turian, stepping back out onto the Presidium. Walking over to the balcony overlooking the water below, John was about to mention how everything here at least seemed the same as it was two years ago, when a sharp metallic voice called out from behind them.

" _Keelah_ it really is you!" Tali and John both spun on their heels to see Jeff and a quarian John recognized to be Lia'Vael approaching them. "I-I mean Jeff said he had served with you before, but you know how sometimes other species think we all look alike. I-It's absurd really, but what can you do?" A moment of silence hung between the four of them, broken only by Joker's muffled laughing. "Sorry. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay. It's a great honor to meet you, Tali'Zorah vas Neema. What you did for our people is inspiring to say the least."

John laughed, leaning back against the railing and folding his arms over his chest as he glanced over to Tali. "See? Now that's refreshing. Finally, someone who isn't under the impression that I tracked down and fought Saren all by myself."

"I, ah…" Tali stammered to respond, clearly not used to the blatant praise Lia had shown her. "It…it was nothing, really. I was just doing my duty to the Fleet."

"And then some, I'd say," Lia replied. She turned to Shepard then, extending her hand. He took it with a smile and shook it. "Captain Shepard. Its good to meet you in person. Jeff says you've been making sure he keeps the ship from flying into stars and stays out of fistfights with the other crew, so thank you for that." Smiling, John nodded sarcastically to her in response.

"Don't mention it, though he does take quite a bit of looking af—"

John's omni-tool flared to life, EDI's blue sphere appearing over his wrist. Quickly he glanced around, afraid of anyone seeing it, but before he could cancel the transmission she spoke up.

" _Shepard, this is your personalized VI reminder to return to your ship. You created this message to alert you of any high-priority developments that may impact your schedule. You will find a summary of these developments aboard your ship. Also, you have three unread messages in your personal inbox, and your ship has been fully refueled. It is ready for departure at your convenience. Have a pleasant rest of your day, and thank you for choosing Verticon for all your VI needs."_

"Wait a minute," Joker said, leaning forward to whisper to the blue orb. "EDI…are you pretending to be a VI?"

As if in reply, EDI's body hovered over Shepard's wrist for a moment more before speaking again. _"_ _Message relay complete."_ The orb disappeared, and Joker laughed aloud.

"Alright…I think it just got a couple points in my book. Now if only it was always that way…"

"Head back to the ship immediately." Shepard's orders came out sharper than he'd have liked, but he was concerned. He had set up no such alert, and if it were an issue with the ship Miranda or Jacob would have contacted him directly. Sending a wide-range comm to his team members, they rushed back toward the Normandy's dock. Reaching it, Shepard waited outside with Joker and Lia for the others to arrive. Garrus was first back, stepping aboard with a sharp nod, then Kasumi running at a brisk pace, with a breathless apology as she hopped aboard. His omni-tool read everyone was aboard, and he turned to Joker.

"Alright, we need to move out."

"Aye aye, Shepard. I'll ah…I'll be there in a second."

Behind him, the engines of the Normandy roared to life, and EDI once again appeared over his omni-tool.

" _Shepard, I have engaged the ship's power systems. We need to leave immediately."_

Looking back up, Shepard saw Joker and Lia embracing, for what could be the last time, if the dangers of their mission were to be believed. Standing in the airlock to the Normandy, looking out at the human and the quarian who clearly cared for each other, he couldn't help but remember how terrible things must have been for Tali after he'd died. Perhaps it wasn't his place, but did he really want to risk that happening to someone else, too? To Joker, of all people? Shaking his head unconsciously, he called out over the roaring engines.

"You know," he began, and the two of them turned to look at him. "There's four computer terminals in the Engineering Bay…and I really hate having an understaffed department. Call me a perfectionist." A smile began to grow on Joker's face, but Lia just tilted her head in what John knew in dealing with Tali meant confusion. He smiled and yelled out to them again. "How'd you like to do your Pilgrimage the Tali'Zorah way?"

Joker laughed, and Lia looked back and forth between the two men before nodding sharply and approaching him.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain Shepard?"

He smiled and gestured toward the open airlock with an arm.

"Well you're on my crew, aren't you?"

Minutes later, the Normandy screamed away from the Citadel, toward the mass relay. Entering the Conference Room, Shepard closed the door and tapped the QE Relay key. The table lowered to the floor, and the Illusive Man's image appeared before him.

" _Shepard, we have them!"_


	14. Dead Men Walking

***Author's Note***  
Decided to split Horizon into two pieces, this one and another  
that will start on Horizon and end elsewhere. To be honest, I rewrote  
this chapter in entirety a couple times because I knew where it was starting  
and where I wanted to end it, but was unsure about the path to take  
to get there. I settled on this version, but I hope you all like it. Please  
let me know what you think!

Expect a new chapter soon, as always thanks for the reviews and adds!

P.S. I wrote this over the course of multiple days, which is something that  
never happens with my writing. Also, it was proofread and inconsistency

Checked at 2am, so if something is terribly wrong I apologize and will fix it  
ASAP. Thanks again, everyone!

* * *

**Dead Men Walking**

The Normandy exited the mass relay in the Iera system under a corona of blue and white energy. Sitting at the helm, Joker smiled to himself as he thought the same thing he always thought when entering or exiting a relay: Just what was it exactly that made it blue?

" _Engineering to Bridge, core readouts are looking good. Temperature is acceptable, flux stabilizers are in check, emissions bleed negligible."_ His smile grew wider at the sound. It was so strange, and yet wonderful, to hear Lia's voice coming through his terminal; to know she was only two decks below him instead of many more light-years. Grinning, he replied to the message.

"Copy that, Engineering, everything looks good on my end as well. And may I just say what a fine job you're doing down there, simply marvelous."

" _Really? Well thanks, lad. I thought I was slackin' a bit, myself. You know, daydreamin' about the next shore leave and whatnot."_ Joker cringed and put a hand to his forehead as Ken continued. _"Hell, even Gabby was gettin' on me about it, but if the_ _ **bridge**_ _says I'm doin' 'marvelous', well…splendid, Joker. Just splendid."_ The comm cut out, and Joker hailed the Conference Room.

" _Just exited the relay, Commander. We'll be reaching Horizon in about ten minutes."_

"Copy that, Joker." John looked straight ahead, forward and down from where he stood at the head of the table, into the holographic representation of the colony layout. EDI had datamined it from obscure records, but who knew if it still looked that way now. Raising his gaze, he looked around the room at his team. Garrus was checking over his sniper rifle, Kasumi next to him installing a piece into her pistol. Miranda and Jacob stood off to his right, going over Cerberus info about the colony and the intercepted transmission they'd picked up. Zaeed, Jack, and Tali all stood about checking over their weapons as well, and Mordin would still be in the lab; no doubt working up to the very last second to perfect his anti-paralysis compound.

The door to the Conference Room opened, and though a few heads turned to see Kal'Reegar enter, most continued whatever they had been doing before. Stepping around the table, Shepard moved to the door and nodded in greeting to the quarian.

"I'm loaded up and ready to move out, Shepard." The marine patted the rocket launcher collapsed on his back, but his voice was wary.

"How is Amys?"

"Still recovering…doctor Chakwas says she's got another hour or two until she's fully awake, enough for a conversation anyway." There was a brief moment of what sounded like disappointment in his voice before he continued. "So, I imagine she'll be up and wondering where she is by the time we get back from this one."

Shepard smiled despite the situation. Quarian or not, Kal was one of the toughest marines Shepard had seen in action, and here he was willing to step out on a mission not even his own, despite obviously wishing to stay behind. He shook his head as he replied. "And you'll be here to see it." He raised a hand to halt Kal's already incoming rebuttal as he continued. "I've got enough people for this one. We've got the element of surprise, and the last thing Amys needs when she wakes up is to be panicking about where she is without a friendly fa—visor around."

"Ha, his plain visor's friendlier than half the faces I see on a daily basis," Jack chimed in as she sank into a chair beside where they were talking. Propping her boots up on the desk, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Kal emitted a short, gruff laugh despite himself, and looked back to John. "You sure? I'm certainly not begging to go with you but…I'm not going to sit around here when a marine's needed either, Shepard."

John put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I'm sure. Get out of here, soldier." With a sharp nod, Reegar turned and left, the doors closing behind him as John moved back to the head of the table to speak.

"Alright everyone, this is what we've got," he began, pulling up the outline of the colony and gaining the attention of everyone in the room. "Horizon is an outlying human colony, but large by their standards. The data that the Illusive Man sent us indicates a comm blackout followed immediately by an invasion. If the security footage from Freedom's Progress was any indication, it's Collectors. The Alliance have a representative stationed there, Commander Kaidan Alenko," Tali and Garrus straightened visibly, "but this is not a single-target extraction. We need to get down there, save anyone possible, and stop the enemy before they can leave."

He tapped a few buttons on the interface below him and the model zoomed in, highlighting two structures in a slowly flashing white glow. "These are the communications and engineering bunkers. If we can get the power back online to the colony, we can use the turrets against whatever enemy ship is there. Tali, you, Kasumi, and Zaeed will be pushing to get in there and get the systems back online." She nodded to him and he continued with an eye for the mercenary. "And if he gives you any trouble, you show him your shotgun. Always worked on Garrus." A soft round of laughter went around the room as Garrus put his hands up defensively.

"Well yea, have you seen how she uses it? And let's be serious here, Zaeed could use the fear of a quarian with a shotgun put into him."

"Right," the mercenary remarked with a smirk, leaning forward to place his forearms on the table. "Even I'm not goddamn crazy enough to mess about with a woman who carries a cannon like that. I'll have your back, don't you worry."

"Priority two," Shepard continued at the lull in conversation, "is the comm bunker. It's locked down tight, and it's our best chance of finding any survivors. Garrus, Jack and I will fight our way there and see what we can find. Miranda, I need you and Jacob to assist doctor Solus in getting any wounded clear of the fight. We're here to save as many people as possible; you'll be instrumental in that."

"Understood, Commander." Her voice seemed less…agitated…than usual, he remarked in his mind, and she nodded crisply before immediately going back to the datapad. Jacob nodded as well. The two of them worked well together, and he wondered for a moment if…the thought almost made him laugh aloud in the Conference Room. Miranda Lawson was cold-blooded, ruthless, perfectionist in every aspect. Surely her busy schedule left no room for such things.

Shaking his head to clear it, he returned to the hologram, searing all the routes through the colony into his mind. He always had an escape route, always another way of approaching an objective. He had never found himself disoriented again after Akuze. Looking up again, he surveyed his team with a nod. "Alright people. Remember, we don't know what kind of tech the Collectors are using, but assume hostiles, and assume advanced weaponry. Stay on alert, keep in contact, and we'll be back in time for Gardner's Gumbo Night."

"Oh hell yes," Zaeed said enthusiastically, standing to his feet and leaving the room first. The other humans simply shared an uneasy look between themselves, and his team left towards the shuttle dock. Tali and Kasumi hung back, speaking together, then moving off toward the door examining data on each other's omni-tools. She looked up for a moment to lock her eyes with his, and he gave her his best smile as he walked past. She tilted her head ever so slightly, all he needed, and returned to her conversation. Heading toward the lab to retrieve doctor Solus, he couldn't help but have a good feeling about this mission.

* * *

The darkened room was lit only with the soft blue glow of the dozens of extranet terminal screens arced in a semi-circle behind his desk. The light fell onto his rough red skin, and though it was physically impossible for his species to color in anger, his body, with its tightly folded hands regarding the open FTL comm channel before him, would have otherwise been happy to oblige. Barely contained rage boiled under his cold, calm exterior as he addressed a voice whose owner he had never seen, and had no inclination to see.

"I understand your frustration; there was a mistake on the part of my agent handling the situation. I can assure you he has been forcefully terminated."

" _But not by your own hand, Shadow Broker,"_ the voice that emanated was a low growl, lower even than his own bone-chilling tone, and though he would never admit it, it terrified him on a core level. " _by Shepard's. I expected more from you, given your reputation."_

"My reputation remains intact," the Broker responded harshly. "No mission is without probability of failure. Regardless, the information I'm giving you now, freely, is correct. He's travelling to Horizon right now, my sources inside Cerberus have, until recently, never failed me."

" _Then I will leave to greet him. Pray to whatever deity you foolishly worship that your agents are more successful this time."_

The comm channel closed without another word, and the Shadow Broker let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He knew the Collectors well, had dealt with them many times in the decades since he'd claimed the throne of Shadow Broker. But in all those years he had, until recently, never heard this voice. It dripped with malice; he could hear how much its owner despised working with him, and he hated the way it chilled him to the bone to hear it.

Still, he knew who…or what…owned the voice. He had reviewed all of the documents and analyses of what happened two years ago at the Citadel; even the ones the Council decided to lock away and deny the existence of. He knew the Reapers were real, and that they were coming. No mortal race could stand against them and hope to survive.

Still, he thought with pride as he turned back to his terminals, after they delivered what they had promised him in exchange for his services…mortal concerns would never bother him again.

* * *

"Still in testing phase, Shepard! Results cannot be guaranteed, safety of whole team still uncertain!" Mordin's protests called out to Shepard, increasing in volume as the side door of the shuttle slid open to reveal brown waving grass below.

"Understood, Mordin," Shepard turned back to regard the genius scientist as EDI guided the shuttle to the ground. "Will Miranda and Jacob be enough to help you hunt for survivors?"

"Yes," he nodded enthusiastically, "much more than sufficient. Biotic powers will help against hostile lifeforms or in case of debris from attack."

"And the paralysis compound?"

"Again, still uncertain." The scientist smiled as he removed a vial of bright green liquid and held it up with pride before inserting it into a handheld injection device. "Looking forward to field testing." Shepard nodded. Cerberus had forwarded the corpses of a few of the insect-like creatures the Freedom's Progress colonists had managed to kill in the midst of the surprise attack there, and Mordin had been spending day and night in the lab trying to solve the problem their instant venom posed. Though Shepard had only seen them on the video clips Veetor had managed to piece together, he didn't relish the thought of experiencing it first-hand. Waving his hand forward, the whole team emptied out of the shuttle into the small field. As Shepard moved, EDI chimed in on his headset.

" _Shep—shuttle successf—ded. Comm rel—suffering interf—"_ Static pushed its way into her sentences, and as he tried to establish a team-wide mission comm channel with the group mere inches away from him, the interference was unbearable. Yelling over the roar of the departing shuttle, he assigned his teams.

"Alright, it looks like we're running this mission silent. That's not the way I'd like it personally, but we've got to make do. Tali, Kasumi, and Zaeed, head for that engineering bunker. Miranda, Jacob, help Mordin with a search and rescue. Garrus, Jack, you're with me. Stay tight, and be careful; we have no idea what these things are capable of. Regroup back here when your missions are complete." Many of his team nodded, fanning out in groups to make their way through the colony. Garrus unfolded his rifle and fell in beside John, as did Jack. As they began to move out, she spoke up.

"So ah, not that I'm complaining or anything, Shepard, but…why'd you bring **me** along?"

He only shuddered slightly behind his mask as he replied, constantly scanning his field of vision for an attack as they moved toward the profile of the giant enemy ship on the other side of the colony. "To keep the husks at bay."

* * *

"This is just like Freedom's Progress," Tali breathed softly from behind her visor. "Empty. Quiet." The wind whipped through the prefab buildings and rustled the taller grass near the walls as she, Zaeed, and a cloaked Kasumi carefully made their way through. By her map, the area they were walking through now was the westernmost area of the colony. Having seen the gigantic enemy ship on the eastern side when they'd approached, she had expected this…emptiness. Still, it didn't do much to quell the growing nervousness hanging about her like a cloak.

"Still got nothing on sensors, though they could be jammed just like the comms." Zaeed spoke quietly, almost a whisper for the usually-coarse mercenary, and Tali nodded in agreement as they continued toward the Engineering bunker, increasing their pace slightly with every minute that passed without incident. She could see the outline of the main generators some quarter-mile ahead, through an endless sea of prefab units, and soon they were upon it, Kasumi de-cloaking and moving to watch Tali's back as she began to hack the door.

The orange dials she manipulated via her omni-tool moved sluggishly, and she soon realized as she attempted to get them to cooperate that the locking algorithms for the door were constantly changing as she tried to hack it. _That's not right,_ she thought as she furiously worked the controls again, _that kind of technology wouldn't be found on a colony world. Plus with the local network down there's no way a computer coul—_ her head snapped up to stare straight into the door as the realization hit her. Some **one** was actively working against her. Raising a balled fist, she pounded on the large metal door.

"Is anyone alive in there? We're ah…a special forces team, here for a search and rescue." There was a long silence, and just when Tali had begun to feel she'd actually gone crazy, a raspy voice called back through the steel.

" _So you bug things can talk, huh? Impressive. Now go the hell away. I wouldn't care if you had my own mother out there at gunpoint, I'm not opening this damn door!"_

"Listen, we're here to get you out of this, but I have to get the power grids online and linked so we can use the defense turrets here. I need you to open this door!"

" _Oh, you can read a colony layout file too? Fantastic, really. But like I said before, no one's coming in this room but me."_

Zaeed whirled around, slamming the butt of his rifle into the door. "Listen to me, you spineless fuck! You open this door and let us get those turrets online or I'll gut you and use your intestines for a hammock!"

"Hmm, points for creativity," Kasumi remarked as she continued to scan for threats behind them. "Five I'd say, maybe ten if you cou—shit, contacts!" Tali and Zaeed spun around to see a group of six Collectors approach from the way their team had come. Before she could react, she felt Zaeed's large hand on her shoulder, pushing her down into a crouching position in front of the door. Grabbing a nearby outdoor table, he flung it down in front of them and knelt into cover.

"Keep working on that door, we'll keep them off you!"

Nodding sharply, she turned back to the controls as gunfire began to ring out across the pathway behind her. Spinning the dials faster than she ever had, her frustration grew rapidly as the access algorithms continued to change on the fly. She spared a glance behind her to see the Collectors rapidly approaching, and furiously turned back to the door. As she continued to work, her brain began to quickly contemplate the situation. The man preventing her was no quarian, no genius technical savant; he was a scared colonist, trying desperately to prevent her from getting in. He didn't have time to think up an elaborate sequence to keep changing the access algorithms, and so had to be working off some kind of pattern. She began to analyze the sequences she'd get very close to cracking before they changed, and after a minute or so began to understand his pattern.

Spinning the dials rapidly, she entered the code sequence she knew would unlock the door at this moment, but left off the last number. As she predicted, his panic drove him to change the code just at seeing her getting close to solving it, and she quickly spun the dials back, anticipating his next choice of code. The dials glowed green and the door slid open with a sharp _woosh_ , revealing a bewildered human man with his hands out in front of him. He reached for the pistol at his hip, but Tali was faster, springing up from her crouched position to punch him clean in the jaw. As he reeled, she spun, delivering a sharp kick to his midsection that crumpled him. Zaeed and Kasumi fell back into the door, and Tali closed and locked it once more, the dials glowing orange as she heard the last of the Collector's rounds slam harmlessly into the heavy barricade.

"Hell of a kick you've got there," Zaeed commented. Turning around, Tali saw the mercenary nudging the body of the engineer with a booted foot. "He's out cold."

"He shouldn't have tried to stop us," she replied coldly, crossing to the main control terminal. Her exterior brooked no weakness, but behind it she did feel sorry for the man. He was, after all, completely terrified. But she'd done what she had to, and she refocused her attention on the controls at hand. "Now let's see about the power grid and local network."

* * *

Miranda swept her pistol across her field of vision while Jacob covered her back and Mordin meticulously scanned the paralyzed colonist in front of them. They had originally headed west with Shepard's team, but broken off towards the domicile areas of the colony. After that, it hadn't been long before they'd found the colonist who captured Mordin's current attention, seemingly frozen standing straight up, her arms brought up in front of her face.

"Hmm…yes, as expected, powerful neuro-toxin. Seeps into primary motor cortex in brain, paralyzes, but leaves victims fully aware of surroundings. Most likely can hear what I'm saying right now."

"Fascinating, doctor Solus," Miranda replied, not taking her eyes off of the still-too-quiet living areas around them, "but can you reverse it?"

Mordin took a deep breath before responding. "Unsure, about to find out!" Pulling out the injector, he administered a small dosage to the paralyzed woman. Slowly, after about a minute, her arms began to tremble, her knees shake. Eventually her body collapsed to the ground in a heap, Mordin leaning down instantly to cradle her and scan her body's vital signs. "Patient appears stable, toxin levels in brain falling drastically, no adverse side effects. Antidote a resounding success; actively attacking foreign material in brain, also gives hope that dosages administered to rest of team will act as deterrent for seeker swarms."

"Finished…" the woman spoke hoarsely, through gasps of air. "They said…finished…leaving…" she gulped air as if she'd never breathed before, and Miranda knelt down beside her as she composed herself. "They passed through here again. One of them was…different…glowing…maybe it was the toxin but, I could understand him…He said they were almost done here, out on a final sweep. The others were just going to get a…pod-thing for me when you all showed up. But they're almost done! You have to tell whoever else is with you! You have to stop them!" Her energy spent, she collapsed back to the ground, breathing heavily and looking pleadingly up at Miranda. She was about to turn to tell Jacob to guard Mordin while she backtracked to find Shepard when her omni-tool buzzed to life. The static crackled violently at first, then cleared in an instant, and Miranda heard a very familiar voice coming through loud and clear.

" _This is Tali, we've gotten into the engineering bunker, and I've re-routed the colony's entire tertiary power grid into our comm channel. It should boost it enough to push signal through the swarms. Can anyone hear me?"_ A smile blazed onto Miranda's face; say what anyone would about aliens, some of them just had the ability to impress on demand.

"Tali, this is Miranda, we're reading you clearly."

" _Ugh, fixing the entire comm system?"_ Garrus's voice entered the conversation. _"Does this mean she gets to stick around with us?"_

" _Afraid so, Garrus,"_ Shepard's voice answered, _"Sorry, I know how jealous you get."_

" _Well if it's going to be a problem, I could just reverse the fix I applied…"_

" _No, no sense now, Tali,"_ Garrus replied, _"damage done."_

"Commander," Miranda broke in, a tone of irritation lacing her words, "Mordin's counter-toxin was a success, and a survivor we've rescued says the Collectors are preparing to move out. You need to get to that ship fast."

" _We're on it, Miranda. Search your immediate vicinity for any other survivors, then double back to the shuttle. Tali, I need to find out what happened to the systems prior to the attack, access their logs and let me know what you can dig up."_

" _Understood, Shepard."_

"On our way, Commander."

* * *

"Now!" Shepard's voice called out over the din of gunfire and pained groaning of the approaching husks, and Jack let loose a shockwave of biotic power, hurling the disfigured once-humans into the air to slam against buildings or simply fall to their deaths. Rushing from cover, Shepard tore into the few Collectors who stood behind low walls with his rifle, bringing them all down before rounding a corner. Jack and Garrus caught up to him as he surveyed the area ahead.

It was an open courtyard, strewn with dozens of Alliance-marked crates. It looked like communications equipment, and on the far side of the courtyard Shepard could make out the comm bunker that was their destination. As they moved across, a single Collector stepped out from behind the GARDIAN targeting console in the middle of the courtyard. His skin was covered in cracks that glowed with a sickly yellow light, his four eyes burning as he regarded his enemies. When he spoke, Shepard knew not who, but **what** he was speaking to, as he remembered his conversation on Virmire years past.

"Shepard, I had hoped you would come. This," he gestured with arms spread wide to the colony around them, "is only the beginning of your species' rise to perfection."

"You mean extinction," Shepard replied, acid in his voice. "And if this is the beginning, I think you're going to be real disappointed in the longevity of your plan. Because I'm putting a stop to it."

The thing laughed, a stomach-turning low growling noise. "Your struggle only delays the inevitable. You should be proud, Shepard. With your destruction of Nazara, you secured immortality for your species. We are the harbinger of your glorious rise, and we will continue to facilitate it. We are your salvation through dest—" A bullet slammed into the thing's shields, the impact sending it staggering back two steps, and Shepard looked at Garrus's raised and smoking sniper rifle out of the corner of his eye.

"Sorry, Jack looked like she was getting bored, didn't want her to doze off. Plus, I think we need to incentivize the Reapers to get some new rhetoric don't you think?"

Jack laughed, hurling a biotic wave towards the Collector enemy, who leapt into the air to avoid it, landing on a nearby stack of crates. Garrus's rifle shrieked again, and Shepard unloaded his rifle into the enemy. As its shields absorbed their fire, it hurled a black orb toward Jack. It exploded at her feet, sending her flying back, her head slamming against an outer wall. As she sat cradling it for a moment, Shepard charged the Collector. Rolling under another black orb, he closed with it, slamming the butt of his rifle into its glowing eyes. A _crunch_ told him he'd done some damage, and as it reeled from the contact, Garrus caught it in the head with a well-placed shot. Shepard unloaded into it with his rifle, and as it died it laughed harshly.

"Where one falls, ten more will rise. Every action you take, every plan you concoct, is futile. But I will not underestimate you as Nazara did. Know this, Shepard: I will be your undoing. You will feel pain, Shepard, on a scale you never thought possible. I will hurt you, and in your despair, you **will** fall." The glowing crevices in the Collector's skin dimmed and disappeared, and the husk died at his feet.

"Well that was ominous," Garrus commented. He and Jack rejoined Shepard at the foot of the targeting console. Her skull showcased a bleeding gash, but she shrugged off the pain as they walked toward the comm bunker.

"That seems to be their forte," Shepard replied as they reached the door to the bunker. Garrus set to work on trying to hack it open, and Shepard brought up the comm channel on his omni-tool.

"Shepard to squad, give me a status update."

" _Miranda here, Commander. Jacob, Mordin and I have reached the Kodiak. We're lifting off now and are en route to your location."_

"See you shortly, then. Tali?"

" _I'm here, Shepard; just finished archiving the back logs for the colony's power systems. We left through a back door that should put us at your location in approximately five min—"_ Gunfire exploded on her end of the comm channel, drowning out what she'd been saying. Zaeed could be heard swearing violently in the background as the firefight continued.

"Tali, what's going on?"

" _More Collectors, a small squad of them but…one of them is…different. It's glowing, and more powerful than the rest! It has us pinned down, and they're advancing quickly!"_

"The Harbinger," Garrus hissed. "So he's taking that threat seriously."

Shepard was already moving, calling back over his shoulder. "Keep at that door; get into that bunker as soon as you can!"

" _Commander, we can bring the shuttle around to assist,"_ Miranda's voice called through his omni-tool. Remembering what he'd did to Jack, he shook his head as he ran.

"Negative Miranda, that thing can take the shuttle out of the sky with no trouble. Stay on course and give Garrus backup when you arrive."

" _Understood, Commander."_

"Tali, I'm on my way. Hold them off as long as you can." No answer came though his comm link, and he tried hailing them again. "Tali? Zaeed? Kasumi? Can you read me?" Again no answer came, and he swore violently, pushing himself to run faster through the empty colony. In the distance, he heard the massive enemy ship's engines roar to life, and he ran even faster than before.

* * *

"Goddamn crawlers are getting closer, need you back on the firing line **now**!" Zaeed's yelling broke over the din of gunfire and explosions, into Tali's audio pickups. Tali herself sat crouched behind her makeshift barricade, attempting to get her omni-tool to reactivate. The glowing Collector before them had fired what in retrospect must have been a plasma ball into their cover spot. It had been aimed straight at Kasumi, but Tali had reached out to push her away, and the ball had grazed her arm, shorting out her omni-tool and severing their comm uplink to Shepard and Miranda. Her actual arm had taken little more than light damage to her envirosuit, but Kasumi had not been so lucky.

"I'm going as fast as I can, damn it!" Kasumi's normally-cheerful voice shouted back at him, now laced with anger, frustration and pain. The attack had caught her squarely in the thigh, though better than in the chest as originally intended, she had remarked through pain-clenched teeth in the moments after they'd retreated from the blast. She had since torn the entire right leg off of her combat suit, and was hastily applying a layer of medigel to the wound, wrapping it with a clean cloth she also pulled from her small first aid kit on her belt. Tying it off with a sharp pull on the knot and a grimace for the agony it caused, she grabbed her SMG and popped up over the top of their barricade, sending a hail of gunfire from an entirely new direction into the advancing enemies, dropping three immediately. There were at least a dozen, however, and they continued to press their advantage, the glowing one hurling plasma balls every few seconds to keep them pinned down, trapped.

"Tali!" Kasumi's voice called to her, and she swung up over the top without asking why, taking aim with her heavy pistol. Tracing it across the advancing line of enemies, she squeezed the trigger in rapid succession, and two nearby Collectors who had been close to overrunning them fell with holes through their eyes. Kasumi slapped her omni-tool and disappeared from sight, Tali rolling into her former spot in cover and helping Zaeed pick off enemies as best they could. Five now advanced on them in addition to the glowing one. She put a series of three shots through one's throat; four. Zaeed caught two standing close together with an incendiary grenade; two. Kasumi materialized behind one, ramming the barrel of her SMG into the base of its skull and squeezing the trigger mercilessly before disappearing again in a flash; one.

Kasumi appeared behind the last drone, ready to strike, but the glowing Collector moved in a blur, catching her by the throat and hurling her into a nearby wall. She crumpled to the ground, and the enemy began to create a ball of plasma in its hand.

"Fuck this," Zaeed grunted, bursting forward from cover and firing on the distracted pair of enemies. A dozen rounds easily found their mark in the drone, and it died before it hit the ground. He bull rushed the glowing Collector, slamming all his weight into the enemy and forcing its weapon to discharge. The plasma ball hurtled into a nearby prefab, and all four windows shattered from the pressurized impact. The inside of the unit caught ablaze, but Tali paid it no mind, sprinting from cover towards Kasumi while trying to line up a shot on the enemy. Zaeed was swinging with the butt of his rifle, now in close quarters with the enemy and aiming to kill. As Tali reached Kasumi she found her unconscious but breathing, and so turned her attention back to the fight.

Zaeed swung his rifle, and the Collector moved impossibly fast, grabbing the barrel and twisting the weapon to point back at him. Four rounds fired off at close range into the mercenary's chest, and he roared in pain and rage before the Collector delivered a jaw-cracking punch that sent him reeling to the ground. Unlatching her shotgun, she fired round after round at the enemy as she approached him, knowing she was the only chance that Kasumi or Zaeed would ever make it out of here. She closed with the enemy, lashing out with her shotgun in a feint, then quickly spinning to deliver a kick to the enemy's throat. It effortlessly caught her leg by the ankle and twisted hard. Her body allowed itself to be turned and flung to the ground, and as she lay on her back, the Collector placed a foot on her chest, leveling her own shotgun to her visor.

"Your potential is wasted in fighting the inevitable." Its voice was a chilling growl, and her blood seemed to run cold just hearing it speak to her. "We are the harbinger of humanity's ascendance, and you will not interfere. You were there; you destroyed Nazara alongside Shepard. Your death will hurt him deeply. You cannot stop us, we are eternal, immortal."

"Mind if I test you on that claim, you goddamn roach?" The Collector turned its head to stare down the barrel of Zaeed's assault rifle. Held with one hand, his aim was unsteady, but from three inches away aim didn't play much of a factor. Without waiting for a response, Zaeed hammered down on the trigger, emptying round after round into the unshielded enemy. The close-range assault tore through the Collector's flesh, blood spraying out the opposite side of its head as the harsh yellow glowing ceased in an instant. The body slumped to the side, and Zaeed extended an arm down to Tali.

"Thanks," she breathed in astonishment as she carefully took his hand. He hauled her to her feet, then gave her a quick nod and stepped away. Shepard came barreling into the courtyard, rifle raised at the ready, but upon seeing them backed down.

"Looks like I'm late," he remarked, regret in his voice.

"I'll say," grumbled Zaeed. The wounds in his chest bled through his shirt, and although his armor stopped the damage from being fatal, the bleeding wasn't slowing. Still, he hauled Kasumi to her feet as she began to come to, and gave her his arm to lean on as she recovered her senses.

"Shepard to shuttle team, I've got the engineering team. Send the shuttle to my coordinates for evac. Prep medical."

" _Understood, Commander. The shuttle is en route now."_

" _Shepard,"_ EDI's synthesized voice emanated from his omni-tool, " _I was able to successfully restore power to and correct targeting inconsistencies with, the GARDIAN lasers. They are currently firing on the Collector vessel, but it is in the process of launching now, there is nothing I can do to stop it."_ Shepard hung his head in frustration for a moment, and she considered comforting him, but knew better of it. He was in that mode, that frame of mind, where nothing fazed him.

"Understood, EDI. Pull power away from the lasers and get the colony's essential functions back online. Also push through a distress beacon to the Alliance; they have to have a dreadnought near here." The orb hovering above his omni-tool vanished in acquiescence, and a moment of silence lingered in the midst of their bitter victory.

" _Shepard!"_ Garrus' voice cut in, interrupting her thoughts. " _Get over here, we've got a seeker swarm victim…and it's Kaidan!"_


	15. Course of Action

***Author's Note***  
Here we are, another chapter ready to go for you! Our next stop  
after this will be Korlus! With a slight (read: quite large) twist on  
Grunt's recruitment… Stay tuned!

As always thank you for everything you do, even people who are  
still sending me PMs and reviews about _The Darkest Night_ , I really  
appreciate any and all input from you, dear reader! Enjoy!

_Apologies for any typos, finished this one up at 2:20am local time, so  
a bit tired, but pushing for the finish line! Will re-read tomorrow for accuracy._

* * *

**Course of Action**

"Hang in there, Kaidan," Garrus' voice reached John's ears as he once again entered the courtyard before the comm tower, and he ran towards them to find the stiff body of Kaidan Alenko lying behind a tall stack of GARDIAN equipment crates.

He tapped his omni-tool as he closed with them, hailing the shuttle. "This is Shepard; Mordin I need you at our forward position with that paralysis antidote."

" _Understood, Shepard. Already on my way, will arrive shortly."_

A few minutes later, the salarian rushed into the courtyard with his pistol drawn. He holstered it upon seeing the group of allies, and made his way over, immediately injecting Kaidan as he knelt down. "Effects not instantaneous. Motor function recovery should start in approximately one to two minutes, must give antidote time to travel through brain."

Shepard nodded, and for a moment they all stood waiting, watching Kaidan's body. A minute passed, and as Mordin predicted, Kaidan began to move his arms and legs again, rolling over on his side to regard them. Slowly, as he spoke, he climbed to his feet.

"Saved by Cerberus. Can't say I'm not pleased with the outcome, but still, surprising." He looked Shepard square in the eye, seemingly appraising the other man, before speaking again. "They sure did a nice job replicating the original. Anderson told me there'd been reports of a Cerberus super-soldier mocked up to look like him. I didn't want to believe it at first; seemed too…cruel. Like a sick joke the meanest kid in school plays on you. But here you are. And with Garrus too, no less."

"I'm no replica, Kaidan. Cerberus spent two years rebuilding me, I've got more tech in this chest than I can name offhand, and they marred up my handsome mug with these scars, but I'm still me."

Kaidan laughed softly, shaking his head as he gathered his weapon and collapsed it on his back. "No, you're not him. Don't get me wrong, it's not your fault, I'm sure Cerberus did a real number brainwashing you. But even with your tactics and your skills, you'll never be Shepard." He turned and began to walk away, and John took a step forward, calling after him.

"Kaidan! Look me in the eye and say that!" The other man stopped, shook his head slightly again, then turned, marching back to stand in front of John. He had a brief moment of silence, and continued. "You look me in the eye and tell me I'm not the same man who you talked to about the horrors of the training camps, the migraines, and the pain. Tell me we didn't stand next to each other and save the whole damn galaxy!"

Kaidan jammed a finger against his chest. " **Prove** it to me! Every report I've gotten from Anderson, from the Alliance, says you're some sick joke! Everything you just mentioned could be found in my file. You think you can just…" he looked away in rage, then continued softly and coldly. "You think you can just walk up to me and spout general knowledge and expect me to believe you? Alright," he began after a brief pause, "you're really Shepard? Then tell me this: After Ash died on Virmire, we had a meeting in your quarters. What did you say to start the conversation?" He leaned back, crossing his arms with indignation over his chest and waiting.

John let a small smile creep onto his face, and a brief chuckle escaped from him as he replied. "I didn't say anything to start that conversation, Kaidan. As I recall, you stormed into my quarters, then caught me with a left hook that I can **still** feel sometimes when I think about it, and told me I was a goddamned idiot for leaving her and not you."

Kaidan's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open a small amount in disbelief. Slowly, his arms unwound from each other and fell to his sides. "But…" he began, his eyes boring into John's own. "Commander…I…you died. You went back for Joker and…"

John stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Kaidan's shoulder. "I died," he finished for him. "Cerberus recovered my body, and poured tons of tech and resources into bringing me back."

Seeming to remember recent events, Kaidan stepped back from John's hand. "So…you're working for Cerberus now? After all those operations we shut down?"

"No, Kaidan." John had thought about what he would say if he ran into any of the old team, and had planned this speech well, but in practice it seemed to be completely failing him. "They brought me back, I don't know how, but you saw what happened here. The Collectors are targeting human colonies; I have to stop them, and find proof that they're working for the Reapers."

Kaidan let out a sharp laugh, gone as quickly as it had come. "Reapers…it's been a long time since I heard that word used. And I'm assuming Collectors are the bug-people here?" Shepard nodded, and he continued with a heavy sigh. "Yea, I saw what happened with my own eyes. But that doesn't mean Cerberus can be trusted. You know who they are, what they're capable of. They're terrorists, Shepard."

John crossed his arms as he regarded his old friend. "You think I don't know that?" Kaidan shifted uncomfortably, and Shepard leaned in, fire in his voice. "You think I haven't known since day one, waking up on that damn operating table, that I'm playing with fire every **second** I let these bastards keep dictating who I'm recruiting and why?" Kaidan opened his mouth to speak, but John pressed on. "The Reapers are out there, Kaidan," he said, pointing into the sky over Kaidan's shoulder. "They're already moving toward us, ready to wipe us out. I don't like Cerberus any more than you do, but this isn't just our fate, or the fate of the Alliance we're talking about. This is the death of every man, woman, and child of **every** species in this galaxy. And if I have to make a deal with the devil to see that averted, then I'll do it."

For a long moment the two men simply stood and stared at each other, the soft wind whipping through the tall, tan grass of the courtyard. At last, Kaidan spoke quietly.

"I spent two years thinking how if I'd just convinced you to leave Joker to save himself, you'd have made it. I don't know how I would have, just that if I had, you'd have been here. You'd have kept us together, kept the Council from covering up the Reaper threat…kept me from thinking about Ash all the time…" He looked away, pain expressing itself across his face, and John stayed silent, letting him get it out, these things he'd wanted to say to a ghost. "I thought about how I could have stopped you, disobeyed your orders, **made** you come to the escape pod…" He raised his gaze again, looking his old Commander in the face. "But that's over now. You're…back. And I know where **my** allegiances lie." He stuck out a hand, and John shook it vigorously. "If you say you're not with them, then I believe you." They broke their handshake and he let out a sigh as he looked around the colony as he spoke. "I've been here for a few months overseeing the colonization efforts, but I'm also on a defense operation. The Alliance, Anderson specifically, is convinced Cerberus is behind these missing colonies. Officially, I'm his right-hand man on anything Cerberus related."

"And unofficially?"

"Reaper related," he replied, pulling out a datapad. "I'm forwarding you everything the Council had on Sovereign, Vigil, the investigation…everything. After you died, no one wanted to talk about it anymore. Like if they just ignored them, the Reapers would disappear. If it can help you at all, then it's been worth keeping on my omni-tool for the past year."

"Bring it with you," John replied as the Kodiak came over the wall behind them, landing some fifty yards away in a clearing. "I could use another familiar face on my ship."

Kaidan shook his head regretfully. "Wish I could, Shepard, really wish I could. But I've got to get the comm station back on regular output, get a message to Anderson, and get this colony back on its feet."

John nodded. "Alright, I understand. We should get out of here before your reinforcements show up. Wouldn't help the Alliance's preconception to see a Cerberus frigate." Kaidan gave him an apologetic smile, and he nodded to the man as he began to move away. "Stay safe out here, Kaidan. I'm going to need you when they come."

"You too, Shepard. I'll forward anything useful that I get access to. And Shepard, just remember: you can't trust them. No matter what they say, or do for you, Cerberus won't stop until every alien race is in chains, literal or otherwise. You and I both know that."

"I know. Believe me; I'll be back in Alliance blue as soon as I can."

Kaidan nodded, and turned to jog towards the comm tower door. Watching after him for a moment, John turned towards the shuttle, tapping his comm unit as he stepped inside.

"Alright, EDI, let's get out of here."

* * *

He stood outside the med bay, looking in through the now-unobstructed glass windows, waiting for any sign of consciousness. She wasn't giving any, and he sighed softly behind his visor and crossed his arms over his chest, pulling his shoulders forward to stretch the muscles in his back. He'd been here for…two and half hours now, his chrono told him when he regarded it, and so far not even a twitch. Occasionally doctor Chakwas would walk by the window and shake her head or tap her chrono or simply shrug apologetically, and each time he'd nodded to her in silent thanks. He could wait here forever if need be; Shepard had made sure of that. The human had surprised Kal when he ordered him to remain on the ship, and for a moment he had wondered if Tali had been teaching him about their ways, their…attachments. But in the end he had simply decided the captain was a decent, understanding man; and in Kal'Reegar's opinion, the galaxy didn't have enough of those.

A soft sigh entered his left audio pickup, a noise of tension releasing, a hard day's work complete, and relaxation to look forward to. Turning his head, he noticed the mess sergeant, Gardner he'd been called by the crew, standing beside him and wringing his hands in a towel as he also looked into the med bay. Kal watched the man's bare hands work for a moment, wondering if he knew how fortunate he was to be able to feel the fibers of the cloth move between them. Before he could say something, the human spoke in a low, soft voice. It was the soft growl of an animal; rough, but Kal could hear the latent concern in his words.

"She's still not awake, huh?"

"Not yet," Kal replied, ignoring the Cerberus logos all over the man's outfit. For a moment there was a thick wall of tension between them, and in an instant Kal decided he didn't care who this man worked for. He was showing an interest in Amys' health, and in Kal's own sanity, by talking to him right now, and it was appreciated. "The docs say she'll be up in a couple hours. 'Course," he looked to his chrono once more as he continued, "that was about two and a half hours ago."

"Figures," Gardner added, shaking his head slowly. "I'm sure they're doin' all they can for her, but ain't the wait always the longest when you need it to be the shortest?"

Kal nodded, having returned his gaze to rest on Amys through the window. "Yea, there's a lot of truth in that."

"Still," Gardner began again after a brief silence, "type of woman like that, one that grabs herself a rifle and charges into a pile o' geth," he trailed off, and picked up again when Kal turned to look at him, "they're not easy to get rid of." He chuckled, and despite the dark humor, Kal found himself smiling behind his visor as he turned back to look at her. No, Amys was a fighter. She would be up soon, he knew it.

His omni-tool let out a short chime, and he opened it, checking the received message. Realizing its sender, he excused himself from Gardner's company and stepped around the corner. The ship was empty, save for Joker, Gardner, and the crew on the deck above them, and he opened the audio message, rerouting it into his helmet so only he could hear.

" _Kal'Reegar, this is Admiral Han'Gerrel. I need an immediate status update on your current mission. If you require extraction, inform me immediately. Your last check-in was after your mission on Haestrom. We received the data, but I still need to fully debrief you and your team. Contact me as soon as possible."_

Kal's fingers flew over the holographic interface, opening up an extranet request to the address the message had come from. The admiral's voice filtered through his helmet again.

" _Squad Leader Kal'Reegar, what's your status?"_

"Recuperating, sir." Kal chose his words carefully as he informed the admiral of the situation. "The geth wiped out my squad, sir. Myself, Tali'Zorah, Amys'Vael, and three marines I haven't been able to identify yet are the survivors. Amys and the others are all receiving medical treatment, currently aboard the Normandy."

" _The ship Tali'Zorah served on during her Pilgrimage? I'm sure I'd read it had been destroyed."_

"Yes sir, it was. It's a newer model, same captain."

" _Yes, Tali had told us he was back in the employ of the Alliance. Though what he was doing behind the Veil is very disconcerting. All the more reason for a full, in-person debriefing. Still, back to the situation at hand; I've got a situation back on the Fleet, something I think only you and your team are capable of. Tali has been granted her absence request, but I need you, Amys, and whoever else is left from your Haestrom team back here as soon as possible. Can I send a shuttle to meet you?_

Kal cringed at the request. He would have preferred to let Amys recover and make it back to the Fleet on their own time, more to keep Cerberus out of the picture than to have some down time, but he wasn't without a fallback plan.

"Of course, Admiral. I don't want to impede Shepard's mission any more than we already have, though. He's doing silent recon for the Alliance in the wake of the geth attack, hence being behind the Veil, and intercepting our wide-range emergency beacon." He felt uncomfortable lying to Admiral Gerrel about the situation, but in this instance it couldn't be helped. He was certain Tali had sent him information about where they'd be going, though he would never insult her by asking, and in the end it had saved their lives and allowed them to finish the mission. He wasn't about to destroy either of them after that.

" _I understand, Kal. I'll send a shuttle to your location, and we'll get you out of there without inconveniencing Shepard. I'll contact you again once it's been deployed."_

The channel cut off, and Kal's eyes widened in terror. If the Fleet sent a shuttle now, all they'd find would be a Cerberus vessel with his team on it, commanded by Shepard. Turning on his heel, he made back for the elevator at a brisk walk. He needed to contact Shepard, needed to figure out a plan fast. He needed to—his thoughts were brought to a crashing halt as he walked by the med bay, not noticing its now-open door, or the quarian woman lying on a table within, and heard her call out weakly to him.

"Kal?"

* * *

"Easy with that, these aren't some goddamn pinpricks in me!" Zaeed growled through his clenched teeth as Mordin applied medigel to his midsection. The mercenary's impossibly dense breastplate had stopped the majority of the Harbinger drone's rounds, but two had managed to punch through.

"Apologies if discomfort is greater than expected," the salarian rattled off as he worked. "Projectiles embedded in lower abdomen, penetration is increased with movement. Please try to remain still."

Zaeed barked a sharp, coarse laugh. "Right, remain still in a shuttle full of people hurtling away from a goddamn planet. Good one."

John shook his head at the pair of them before returning to his omni-tool readouts. Two-thirds of the colony had been taken, he discerned with a scowl. He hadn't been fast enough. Closing his eyes, he refused to mourn the dead. He'd get them back, somehow. The thought was little more than blind hope, but in a time like this, with the enemy he faced…a little hope went a long way. His omni-tool chimed, and he regained his focus, tapping the receive icon and watching as EDI flickered to life over his wrist.

" _Shepard, I am picking up multiple incoming Alliance cruisers. It seems that there was a patrol fleet in this sector, able to pick up Commander Alenko's distress beacon almost instantaneously. I recommend a fast departure."_

"Copy that, EDI. We're on our way back now, ETA five minutes to docking. Have Joker prep the engines off of idle, we'll need to move the second we're aboard."

" _Understood, Shepard. In addition, I have received an updated passenger health report from medical. All quarian patients are listed as stable, and Amys'Vael has regained consciousness. All are expected to make a full recovery."_

Lifting his head for the first time since boarding the shuttle, he looked across its aisle into Tali's visor. She had stayed quiet since leaving Horizon, likely just giving him time to think, to work things out. It was something he was quite fond of about her. She seemed to just… _know_ …when he needed isolation, and when he needed a sympathetic ear. Now, certain that she'd heard EDI's report, he smiled to her as he replied to the AI.

"That's excellent news, EDI."

* * *

The giant balled krogan fist slammed into the armrest of the stone seat in the main hold of Clan Urdnot. The stone beneath the blow cracked, a piece of the arm tumbling down onto the other rocks strewn haphazardly around the raised dais.

"I said absolutely not!" Wrex bellowed into the faces of the Clan Weyrloc emissaries in front of him. After what had happened at the Crush where he had united the clans, Wrex had been completely opposed to speaking with them. He would focus on uniting the willing, and before they left Tuchanka to fight the Reapers, they would extinguish whatever small flame of Clan Weyrloc was left. In fact, he recalled now with little joy as he glared at the representatives before him, it had been at the counsel of Nakmor Jrath that he had eventually decided to proceed with negotiations.

He turned his head slightly to catch Jrath's gaze from the corner of his eye. He respected the krogan, if for nothing more than his complete loyalty to Wrex and the idea of a united krogan people; yet even outside of that, he had dedicated all of Nakmor's resources, information, and warriors to the cause. If there were anyone Wrex could trust on Tuchanka, it was him.

"Your protests ring hollow, clan chief," the lead Weyrloc representative replied, acid in his words. "What can be said of a leader who refuses to accept the legitimate future of his people?" He spread his arms wide, taking in Urdnot hold as he spoke. "This pile of rubble, this sad throne, this dying people; **this** is what you will be left with if you refuse to accept Weyrloc Guld's methods. With every day that passes, we come closer to destroying our greatest enemy, while **you** sit on an undeserved throne, playing at king."

Jrath tensed up, instinctively leaning forward slightly, preparing for a fight. Wrex held up a hand, and the other krogan relaxed, stepping back as the Weyrloc emissary chuckled. Wrex leaned forward in his seat, looking down at his accuser. "Clan Urdnot will not be insulted or feared into falling in line with Weyrloc Guld. I suggest you tell your clan chief that if he wishes to insult me instead of negotiate, he can send a message next time. Walking sacks of varren droppings to convey the message won't be necessary."

The Weyrloc emissary fumed, pulling a datapad from behind his belt and hurling it to the ground before Wrex. He pointed to it as Wrex picked it up to read it. "There you have it! This is but a fraction of the progress Clan Weyrloc has made towards the destruction of the genophage! Look upon it and see the end of your reign, Urdnot Wrex!"

Wrex's hands clenched around the edges of the datapad as he read what it contained. Eventually, the sides began to strain, then crack, the screen shorting out as he tossed the heap back to the feet of the emissary. When he spoke, his voice was ice. "You perform these… **tests** …with these death tolls…on our females?"

The krogan laughed, crossing his arms as he replied. "Not every female on this planet lies under your thumb, _chief_. They volunteer for this treatment, for a chance to save the krogan. Most of them anyway. Some need to be…persuaded, but their sacrifice will be remembered by a revitalized krogan."

Wrex was just preparing to bellow back about the complete disgust of what the krogan had just admitted to doing, when Jrath charged from his position beside Wrex's throne, roaring fiercely. He crashed into the emissary, and the pair tumbled to the stone floor. The two other Weyrloc who had come with him unlocked their weapons, but before either of them could fire, Wrex had them in a biotic stranglehold, crushing their necks with a thought. Their bodies tumbled lifelessly to the ground, and Wrex turned his attention back to Jrath, who now straddled the Weyrloc emissary.

Wrex's eyes widened slightly as Jrath, fighting with the struggling emissary, finally managed to pin his arms to the ground and slam his head forward. Jrath's bone plate slammed into the emissary's unprotected face, bones crunching with the hit. Pulling back, Jrath threw his head forward again and again, each time earning a sickening _crunch_ of bone and the occasional spurt of blood from his victim. Jrath continued to slam his head forward a handful of times after the emissary had stopped twitching, and eventually slowly stood, turning to face Wrex.

"Clan chief…" he spoke distantly, as if he did not inhabit his own body. "I know it was I who recommended negotiations with Clan Weyrloc, but after this, after what they've done…what they plan to do…to our people…" He raised his eyes, locking gazes with Wrex, blood running freely across his face. "I feel I was mistaken. These… **monsters** ," he spat on the corpse beneath him, "are not krogan."

Wrex stared into the face of his closest friend. An ancient krogan saying his father had always tried to impress upon him said that one did not truly know another krogan's heart until he has seen him at his most vicious. Before him now stood the most level-headed krogan Wrex had ever known, bathed in the blood of a diplomatic emissary. He knew his friend for who he truly was. Nodding once, Wrex clapped a hand on Jrath's shoulder.

"Call the clans together. Destroying this communal threat will be the action that binds us together before we set out upon the galaxy."

* * *

Jrath nodded and turned to leave, allowing Wrex a moment with his thoughts. He looked down into the demolished face of the krogan on the dais. With their numbers as they were, ordering the deaths of so many krogans would be a risk in the long-term. But the lives of those females had been too high a price to pay for something he knew was impossible to achieve. And the **pride** they had shown in their disgusting "treatment"…hooking the toe of his boot under the corpse, he gave a heave and tossed it off the edge of the dais, into the varren pits below. Jrath had been correct; these were no longer krogan, they were no better than beasts.

"I'm telling you, Kal, I'm fine, really."

"I can attest to that claim," the human doctor, named Chakwas, said without turning from where she sat at her desk, filing all the correct medical reports. "There are, after all, one or two doctors that pass through here from time to time. I may be one of them." Amys laughed softly, gingerly putting a hand to her stomach as she did. The pain still lingered, but it would heal. Everything would heal, and she'd be back in action in no time. **That** news had been the most incredible to hear. She vividly remembered the confusion, the haze, the foggy vision as she had lain in a pile of rubble on an ancient, dead world, waiting to die. But he had saved her. Looking up again, she met Kal's gaze, and felt the concern for her pouring out of his eyes. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers as she spoke.

"So tell me about this message again?"

"Ah, right." Kal stuttered before continuing, and she smiled behind her visor. "Admiral Gerrel wants a full debriefing, and says he has a special mission for us. When you're ready, that is. He's sending a shuttle to meet with us now, which could…"

"…be problematic. If I remember right, Captain Shepard is working with Cerberus at the moment."

"Exactly. I just hope he gets back soon, we need a plan fast, _nehya_."

The doors to the med bay opened to admit a slender young human woman in a black suit minus a torn-off leg, one arm draped around Tali, and an older-looking mercenary trying very hard, and failing, not to use Shepard as a crutch. Kal, following her gaze, rushed to take the girl's arm from Tali, leading her to a bed and allowing Tali to speak with Amys. Chakwas was on her feet immediately, reports forgotten, the adrenaline of her work kicking in. Tali took her hand in her own as she spoke.

" _Keelah_ , Amys, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Tali. I heard the numbers from Kal. To be honest…I'm surprised this many made it out." She glanced over to the other quarians, stable yet sedated on the beds nearby. Their suits had been repaired, their injuries healed, and soon they would be back on the Fleet, the few survivors of a brutal mission. Returning her gaze to her friend looking down at her, she smiled behind her visor and spoke. "Well, at least we made it out. And we got the data?" Tali nodded. "And you got your absence approved?" Again, she nodded. "Well then," Amys said, leaning her head back to rest on the pillow and closing her eyes. "Mission accomplished. Mark up another win for Team Amys."

Despite the situation, Tali laughed at her bravado, and she opened her eyes to meet hers again. A brief moment passed between them wherein each knew the other's mind. The fear of what happened, the guilt at having survived, the gratitude to Shepard for getting them out…Shepard. Looking past Tali's shoulder, she saw the Captain leaning the mercenary onto a bed amidst his stream of words that didn't translate properly in Amys' aural pickups. She assumed they were human curses. As he pulled back from the mercenary, he met her gaze and nodded to her, smiling that same smile he'd given her on Haestrom, when she knew she wasn't going to die there.

She wanted to say something…anything, to thank him, but as her mind fumbled on the words, Kal stepped up to the Captain, shaking his hand and walking with him out of the med bay, their heads together as Kal no doubt informed him of their situation.

"What's wrong?" Tali's voice returned Amys' gaze to her friend, and she smiled softly as she replied.

"We're going home, Tali."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Shepard, I didn't mean to put you in this kind of a position." Kal spoke as the two of them rode the lift up to Deck Two. He had spoken fast and quiet about his conversation with the admiral, and the incoming shuttle to retrieve them. John had thought about the problem equally as fast, but he needed information from the bridge. Unfortunately, the way things were going at this particular moment, that meant introducing Kal to a crew member he'd wanted to keep from meeting the quarians aboard the Normandy. Still, he thought as the doors opened and they stepped out onto the command deck, EDI had shown the ability to utilize discretion before, there was no reason she should be incapable of it now.

Pretending that was enough to convince himself, he led Kal across the CIC and into the hallway leading to the bridge. As they passed, Cerberus personnel nodded to him, stepping quickly to get out of his and Kal's way, and as they reached the bridge, Joker swung around in his chair to meet them.

"So, another hugely successful mission, yea?"

"Yea, we'll celebrate in a bit, Joker. Right now, I need you to use the computer to figure out a place to hide this ship. We can use the stealth systems to hide our EM signature and emissions bleed, but I need to physically hide it from any ship jumping in from this system's relay. Find me a place."

Joker spun back around in his chair, pulling up localized astrogation charts as he spoke. "Oh, man I just **love** scavenger hunts. One celestial foxhole, coming up, Commander."

"All due respect, Shepard," Kal began hesitantly, "we can't just… **hide** from the Fleet's pickup shuttle."

John smiled as he replied, the same kind of smile he had given the quarian on Haestrom before they'd taken out the colossus together. " **You're** not, Kal. **I** am." Turning on his heel, he started at a brisk pace back down the corridor, Kal falling in after a moment of hesitation. Pulling up his comm link, he hailed engineering.

"Shepard to Engineering; Ken are you busy at the moment?"

" _Negative, Commander. Gabby just took over for me and I'm headed to the lift to get a bite to eat."_

John stopped, Kal coming to a halt right beside him, and waited, letting silence linger on the open comm channel. After a few seconds, a soft sigh came from the other end.

" _I'm not going to the mess, am I?"_

John continued walking as he responded. "Not yet, anyway. Meet me in the shuttle bay in five minutes, we've got some fast work to do."

* * *

The hovercar pulled slowly up to the curbside, coming to a stop and gently lowering onto the thin black recharging pad below. The doors opened, and a soldier reached in to them, offering his hand in assistance. Daeva took it first, one small hand in his large, gloved one. In her other hand she clutched the blanket Alex had laid on the ground inside the hideaway wall for them. She hadn't let it out of her sight since they'd left Omega; and if the way she acted about it were any indication, she would die holding it. Myra followed suit, allowing herself to be pulled gently from the backseat. With a last look around the back seat of the vehicle for anything they missed, Serra leaned forward and exited the car.

Standing next to the car while the soldiers walked up the pathway to the front door, Serra looked around. The place was, for all intents and purposes, idyllic. When asked, the soldiers had told her they were heading for a smaller suburb outside of Seattle, and the two-lane road and rows upon rows of houses just like this one but in different colors attested to it. The fall wind whipped around them, kicking her hair up and chilling her through the light coat she had pulled from the crate in the hideout light-years away on Omega. Shaking her head to clear her mind of the place, she turned towards the house and made her way up the walkway. When she arrived, the soldiers were already in conversation with the owner of the house. He was a tall man, with short brown hair, mustache and beard. He had broad shoulders and looked remarkably like Alex as he spoke to them.

"—did you say sent you?"

"Councilor David Anderson, sir," one of the soldiers replied, "human representative on the Citadel Council."

"Oh yea, no I know who the guy is," the man replied, "just wanted to make sure I'd heard you right." His eyes moved across the three of their faces as he spoke, and he smiled, gesturing into the house with his head. "Well come on in, far be it from me to turn down a request from the Councilor." The soldiers nodded and ushered the three of them into the house, then turned back to their car as the front door closed.

The interior of the house was very comfortable looking. From her vantage point in the entryway, Serra could see a well-decorated den, kitchen, and study. Daeva and Myra, tired from the long journey, both wandered into the den and promptly fell asleep on the couch. Still standing in the doorway, Serra had almost forgotten the man who had taken them in until he moved forward, turning around and sitting down on the first couple steps up to the second floor so he would be at eye level with her. She regarded him warily, and he offered a hand to her.

"Marcus Cross." She took it hesitantly, and he shook her hand before letting go. "I ah…I'm not sure what made the Councilor bring you three here of all places but…I mean my wife and I would be happy to give you girls a place to stay." He looked past her shoulder, seemingly into nowhere. "Just ah…wish I had some more information is all."

For a moment she simply regarded him as he sat there looking back at her now. After a long moment she nodded once, slipping Alex's omni-tool processor off of her wrist and handing it to the man. When she spoke, her voice was hushed, reverent. "This was Alex's." The man's eyes shot open wide at the mention of Alex's name, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "He…he and his team saved the three of us from a slaver gang on Omega called the Blue Suns. If it weren't for him…" she trailed off, closing her eyes as she tried not to dwell on what could have been. With a start, she felt a pressure on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw Marcus's hand there, and meeting his eyes showed her a pain she didn't think could exist.

"He's…he's dead, then? My boy…he's gone?" She could only nod softly, tears welling in her eyes as well as his own. After a moment, he broke their locked gazes, dropping his head and letting silent tears roll from his eyes. Cradling the omni-tool in both hands, he looked back up to her. She was scared; about how he would react to the news, whether or not he'd blame them, everything. Instead he simply wiped the tears away from his eyes and met her gaze once more.

"Well…I could have gone my entire life not knowing what happened. You had the chance to just play the 'government' card and not say a word…why'd you tell me?"

A small silence hung between them for a moment before she answered quietly. "Because you deserved to know. Because Alex was my friend, my hero, and…my father, for his part." The man nodded as she spoke.

"Well, I'm not about to turn you away, not after what's happened to you three, what Alex…went through to protect you. While you're here, you're safe." She didn't want to believe him, every instinct she'd cultivated over the years said not to, but she did. Smiling, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Him, a complete stranger; her, the _de facto_ daughter of his deceased son. They mourned him together, and in one small moment, lessened each other's pain.


	16. My Mass Effect: A Message to the Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE (3/25/16): The idea to write this chapter came to me as controversy about the possible endings of ME3 were swirling around the rumor mill and people, my readers included, were getting very agitated at the possibility of a big let-down coming from the game. I was upset as well once I saw the leaked endings, but quickly realized that the series as I had written it thus far had enough flexibility that it didn't need to go anywhere near the rails of the third game's plot. This short break in the action was my reassuring letter to my readers.

**My Mass Effect - A Message to the Reader**

_(I wanted to write this as ME3 launches, because I feel that once the game launches people may not be swinging by here as often as they have been. I'm writing this off the cuff, so bear with me if it gets a little long-winded. There are ***NO*** ME3 spoilers in this post.)_

Dear readers,

I want to talk to you about a topic that I think is going to be a big deal in the coming weeks, with the launch of the final chapter in the Mass Effect series, and the impacts it may or may not have on the writing that you come here to read.

Throughout writing both _The Darkest Night_ and _For We Are Many_ , I've received a handful of PMs, always phrased differently, but asking the same kind of question: had I looked at the leaked information about ME3 and would I be writing _For We Are Many_ to account for the eventual re-telling of that tale in _Fire in the Stars_? Every time I've gotten one of these messages, I've been able to reply that I had not looked at that information, and I'd be writing _FitS_ the way I saw fit, especially since people seem to be increasingly supportive of my off-the-rails presentation of ME2.

Four days ago, in an effort to spend less time burning through ME3 to see what happens next and instead spend more time here writing, and at the behest of a long-time friend, I took a look at the leaked endings to the third game. I'm not here to spoil anything for you, and I'm sure that there are many people out there who will be very satisfied with the endings to the series. Personally, I'm not one of those people, but I can understand the points of view of those who are. For a day or two, I was quite irritated, deciding whether or not I wanted to cancel my pre-order of the game, or even continue writing about Mass Effect here. And while I thought about it, I came across what now seems like an inevitable conclusion. And it's my hope that in sharing this, some of you who end up joining in my opinion of the third game may have an easier time understanding.

The conclusion I came to is this: BioWare's Mass Effect is not **my** Mass Effect. Throughout the first two games, the developers wanted to make it very clear that our choices mattered, that they influenced the plot, and ultimately the end of the series. As we progressed through these games, as we made these choices **as** Commander Shepard, we came to **own** our Shepard. We **were** our Shepard. At that point, the story truly became **ours**. We thought about the back-story of characters that BioWare hadn't provided any for, and we filled in situational details to flesh out the experience we had while playing. Many games rely subtly on this seemingly subconscious player input, but Mass Effect really made it a central point: This is **our** story, we **are** this character, out here saving the galaxy. While this kind of tactic was admirable when used in ME and ME2, the fact of the matter is that BioWare's Mass Effect, the story we put ourselves into, has to come to an end. This is the main reason I think ME3 will stir up so much controversy: In the first two games, there was always time ahead in the future to have choice matter, to address the consequences of choices the player made. In this game, however, the story has to end.

BioWare ended Mass Effect 3 the way they wanted to, but even if the choice they made disappoints you, the thing we have to remember is this: we each of us have our own Mass Effect. It's filled with the characters we love, and the choices we made. And it ends the way **we** want it to end. Whether your Mass Effect gets written down or simply kept in your head, you own that story, it ends how **you** want it to. If your Shepard makes a heroic sacrifice to save the galaxy, so he does. If he lives to go off and run a promiscuous harem of krogan females, well...sure, why not? Just ah...have him bring a doctor along, okay? The point I'm trying to make here is this: While BioWare brought you into this amazing universe and made you sincerely care about the characters, there's a certain point at which the story truly becomes **yours**. And at that point, no ending BioWare puts on a disc is going to change how you know **your** Mass Effect ends.

To this end, I want to clear up a few points that people have sent me PMs asking about. Seems simplest to list them in numeric order:

1\. No, I do not at all like **any** of the endings BioWare has given for their closing of Shepard's story.  
2\. Yes, I do think I could do it better. Much better.  
3\. Yes, I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is, and **will continue writing this series** , all the way through _Fire in the Stars_. I have the plot of my Mass Effect series entirely written out, and have known for about 2 months now exactly how _FitS_ ends, and what happens to Shepard  & Co.  
4\. No, I'm probably not going to buy ME3. I have an N7 Edition pre-ordered, but unless they pull a serious 180 in the next 48 hours (unlikely), I'll probably let it cancel out. I'll view "Let's Play" videos for character/scenery reference information, and write the rest as I already have planned.

To everyone who has followed along with me from _The Darkest Night_ through where we are now in _For We Are Many_ , I want to say thank you very much for supporting me. Once _FitS_ is written, and **m** **y** Shepard's story is over, I'll be writing an original fiction series (currently entitled _Legends of Skywall_ ) on FictionPress, which I'd appreciate everyone who likes these works taking a peek at once it goes up in mid- to late-summer.

In short: Welcome to non-canon territory. Welcome to a complete, refreshing, satisfying ending to the story of Commander Shepard.

Welcome to **my** Mass Effect.

Thanks for reading this, and thanks for reading everything else on this profile. I live to write convincing fiction, and you all have given me the constant motivation to do so.

~venomRED


	17. Motivations

***Author's Note***  
Using this chapter to set up for a number of non-canon  
plot paths I'll be taking throughout this work and the following  
one. I'll be checking them again later on for accuracy, as it  
happens I've been out of town the past week, and half of this  
chapter was written before, and half after, my leave.

Hope there's nothing too glaringly incorrect, and I hope you  
enjoy the new directions we're going to be heading in. I'm quite  
excited. =D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Motivations**

"You know, Commander, there's a long list of reasons I could recite for you why I think this won't end well," Ken yelled over the whine of the laser-etching torch. "But right now, what I'm most concerned about would be the 'defacement of company property' article in my contract."

From the other side of the Kodiak, John let out a laugh, angling his own torch at the side of the dropship. "I think I can use some kind of executive power to make that problem go away, Ken. Keep blasting."

"Already abusing your power, huh? Well I must say, Shepard, I'm quite impressed. I'd have lasted all of forty-eight seconds, I think."

Shaking his head, John continued to work, scoring the Cerberus logo off the side of the shuttle. They didn't have much time to put the plan together, but they didn't need an exact replication. They just needed a shuttle **not** clearly belonging to Cerberus. Tapping his earpiece with a finger, he opened the wide-range ship comm.

"Joker, you manage to turn up anything?"

" _Yea, Commander, I was just about to contact you. There's a small group of asteroids orbiting close to Iera that give off a strong magnetic field. Won't be easy to land the Normandy on one of them, but if I can it'll hide our emissions from any passing ships."_

" _Well hell, I could have told you that,"_ Zaeed's voice came in after Joker's. _"They call it 'shadowing', pirates and slavers do it all the time to dodge the law."_

"Will it work?"

" _If your ship's small enough,"_ he replied gruffly, then added with a laugh. _"And your pilot good enough."_

"We shouldn't have a problem, then. Joker, take us in but don't land us until the Kodiak is out."

" _Aye, aye, Commander."_

"Kal, what's your status?"

" _Amys is up and walking, with a little trouble."_ Despite the sad addendum, Kal's voice came noticeably less tense as it had the past few days. _"The other three marines are still under, but doctor Chakwas assures me they're alright to be moved. We'll bring them down to the shuttle on your order."_

Glancing at his handiwork with a slightly tilted head, John set his torch down and walked around the other side to see how Ken was faring. The Cerberus logo on the engineer's side of the shuttle had been expertly removed, the bare steel of the bulkhead showing in a perfect square where the logo used to be. Ken, who had until this moment had his back to John, spun around wide-eyed, his cheeks puffed out, clearly filled with the nutrient bar he'd been in the middle of eating.

"Cffmnder!" Swallowing hard, he tried again. "Commander! Sorry, sir just…ah…finished a bit earlier than anticipated and thought I'd ah…"

John grinned as he tapped his comm link again, shaking his head at the embarrassed engineer. "Go ahead and bring them down, Kal. We need to get this shuttle out of the docking bay before Donnelly eats it too."

" _Uh…right. We'll be there in a minute."_

"I can handle the rest, Ken," John began, "go ahead and get something real to eat." Ken saluted him and moved toward the elevator as John picked up the airbrush filled with white paint. Covering the two bare spots the pair of them had made took only a minute, and as he finished the elevator doors opened, admitting Kal, Amys, Chakwas, and Mordin pushing mobile beds for the three quarian soldiers. John opened the side hatch, allowing the doctors to board the soldiers. Kal helped Amys up onto the shuttle, and then came back out to talk to John.

"How close are they?"

"Can't say, Shepard. But given the time it would take them to man a small ship with enough room for them," he point a thumb back over his shoulder, "and get it out here…we don't have long 'til they're in-system. I got the automated notification that the shuttle was launched about an hour ago."

John nodded. "Alright. You've got the story straight?"

"I've got it, Shepard. Don't worry, Amys and I won't let you down. Not after what you did for us...for me." Their eyes met, and Kal gave him a sharp nod before stepping back into the shuttle.

Closing the side door, he caught Amys' gaze as she sat in the passenger hold. For a brief moment, it was as if they'd had hours to talk, for her to explain her gratitude, and him to welcome her for everything. He wondered how quarians managed to do that with just a single look, and he nodded to her before latching the door in place and slapping the side of the shuttle with his hand.

"Joker, get the bay open, they're ready to go."

Moving back with Chakwas and Mordin, John watched the bay doors open and the shuttle move out into the black. Once they closed, he took the lift with them, getting off at the CIC and walking up to the bridge.

"How are we?"

"Good, Commander," his pilot replied. "I've been taking us in steadily. I know we don't have much time, but if we get this wrong we're stuck here for a long while." The ship rocked back and forth unsteadily as Joker edged it closer into the surface of the largest asteroid in the cluster.

"It's alright. Just put us down as fast as you can." He stared out the viewport for a moment before heading back down the hall. "EDI," he called out to the air, "can the quantum entanglement relay cut through the magnetic field?"

" _Yes, Shepard. The magnetism around these asteroids poses no interference to the conference system installed aboard this ship."_

"Good. Once the quarians are clear we'll find out what the Illusive Man's been up to."

* * *

"Let me make this perfectly clear, to avoid this same type of conversation in the future." Pausing to take a drag of his cigarette, the Illusive Man breathed the smoke out along with his words as he continued. "I grant you this kind of operational freedom for two reasons. First, so that I'm not bothered with constant calls like these. Second, and most importantly, because your actions make enemies that I don't want to have. If I don't know what you're doing, if you don't work for me, I don't make those enemies. Are we clear?"

The holographic relay of the speaker revealed everything about his nature without words being necessary. He was tall, muscular but lean, and powerful; with jaw-length black hair reaching down from the top of his head. His distinctly neutral expression made him impossible to read, a fact that the Illusive Man had so far been unable to change or adapt to. His eyes didn't help, either; angled, glowing white slits behind a black, form-fitting mask. His voice when he replied was oil, smooth and calm, but giving a foul feeling as well; as if his tone by itself spoke volumes about the atrocities he had gladly committed.

" _Perfectly."_

"I sent you to find out who in my organization betrayed me, who I was betrayed to, and how many times that person will beg me to be allowed to live. That's quite a list to handle, but I have the utmost faith in your abilities. You have **unlimited** discretion, Kai."

" _Understood. I will contact you when I find the one responsible."_

The holographic image blinked out, and the Illusive Man suppressed a sneer of irritation. Kai Leng and John Shepard were the only two men in his organization who had the ability to contact him via QE relay, and while he did greatly respect Kai's…skill set…the man displayed blatant disrespect at some points. Shaking his head, he turned back to the many orange interface screens that played out above where he sat, taking another drag from his cigarette as the only door to his office opened.

James Kashon approached him from behind, silently handing the datapad towards him, nodding as he took it, and leaving without a sound. Whether back in the Alliance military before the First Contact War, or afterward dealing with different Cerberus cells, he'd always found that the heads of intelligence divisions loved to go on at length to him about their discoveries and the implications thereof. Kashon was the exact opposite. The man hadn't spoken twenty words to the Illusive Man since taking over in the wake of his predecessor's failure to derive the source of the incident at Lazarus Station, only speaking when absolutely critical. It was one of the man's best qualities, he had decided.

As the door closed behind Kashon, he looked down at the datapad with a smile. Another group of pirates ambushed and destroyed; batarian, from the report. Going over the figures of the operation, he scrolled impatiently through until the end, where he found the listing of the number of ships repossessed: five. It was a decent return on investment, then, he decided as he perused the rest of the report. His eyes moved rapidly through the lines of text in the report, and then without warning they seized, vibrating back and forth erratically. He slammed his eyelids shut and pressed a pair of fingers to his temple to suppress the aching migraine he knew would arrive in seconds. Like clockwork, it came; a blinding pain that resonated throughout his skull. His breathing increased rapidly, and his free hand gripped the arm of the chair he sat in harder than he'd ever held it before as he waited for the pain to subside. Slowly, achingly, the fire in his head ebbed away. His breathing came more steadily, and his grip lessened.

Looking over at the table next to his chair, he found his glass almost empty. Pressing a button on the armrest summoned a middle-aged man who filled it to the brim and then silently departed. He pressed the glass to his lips, letting the liquid slide down his throat and begin the numbing process all over again. The symptoms were getting worse; the attacks more intense. Time was become more and more scarce, but he couldn't focus on that now. Picking up the datapad that he had dropped into his lap, he opened up the only other file it contained. It was an overview of the larger operation; one that would ensure galactic stability and safety long after Shepard stopped the Reapers, long after the galaxy stood united against its common enemy. Long after the Illusive Man was gone.

For centuries to come, Project Ascendency would be his legacy.

* * *

The ship jostled again, tossing John to the left as he approached the door to engineering. Grabbing the handrail, he steadied himself before stepping forward and opening the door.

"—like he's **trying** to mess up all my calculations. Every time I get a solid readout on the reactor, he dips into another crossing magnetic field, and I start all over again." Gabby's frustrated voice carried over to the rest of the room's occupants, and Lia looked up to nod in agreement with her. Tali stayed focused on the control panel beneath her, fingers flying over the interface as she replied without looking up.

"Flying ships down onto highly magnetic death traps is a normal day for Joker. Wait until we get to the **real** crazy stuff."

"Can't wait…" came Gabby's weary reply.

John smiled, walking into the room and joining the conversation. "Come on, he's not **that** bad, is he?" Gabby's eyes shot up, wide in terror, and Lia spun around to regard him at her post. Yet again, Tali remained frantically working, not showing the slightest sign of having been startled as she replied.

"Oh no, not at all. I expect these kind of ideas from Joker. The crazy _bosh'tet_ of a captain who approved his insane idea, however…" she looked over her shoulder at him, and he could see the smile in her eyes. "couldn't be too sure about him." A large _thud_ resounded through the ship, and force pulled them all towards the deck. Leaning against the railing for support, John looked around to check on the others as Joker's voice filtered through the ship-wide.

" _Alright, that's touchdown, Commander. EDI's giving me EM readouts, we're completely masked from anyone who can't eyeball the Normandy."_

"Good work, Joker," John replied into the air. "All crew, settle in for a while; once our guests get picked up we'll be moving out again, so get some rest while you can." Turning off the ship-wide, he looked back to his engineers. Gabby stretched her arms out wide with a yawn as she stepped away from her terminal and spoke.

"Core readings seem stabilized, Commander, it doesn't look like the magnetic field is doing anything to prevent it from working properly. Guess I'll go make sure Ken hasn't already demolished our next month's supply of food." He nodded to her with a smile, and she returned it before turning and leaving.

"Wh-what can I do? You know, uh, to be of assistance?" The way Lia spoke to Tali was almost enough to make John laugh aloud, but he stayed silent as the two of them spoke. Tali looked back over her shoulder, catching his gaze before turning back to the other quarian.

"Don't worry about it, Lia. We've been on the move pretty much constantly since you came aboard. I'll handle the reports and readout-taking, you go ahead and get some rest."

The heavy sigh came out of the front of Lia's mask quite audibly, and John smiled as she spoke. " _Keelah_ , thank you. I'm about to fall asleep standing up, but I didn't want to be rude." They shared a laugh, and Lia turned to leave, nodding to John as she walked past with a muffled _"Captain."_ As the door closed behind her with a soft metallic _click_ , John stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the woman he cared for.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to quarians calling me 'captain'," he thought aloud. Within his embrace, Tali continued to work the numbers on her terminal, but he could feel her lean back into him when he had approached, and he was content to wait. Just being alive, standing here, was more than a miracle, and he was happy enough just enjoying that fact.

"Well," she began as she continued to run tests and readouts, "the way I see it you have two options, _captain."_ Her added emphasis on the title brought a grin to his face, and she continued. "You could make a very lengthy speech about the differences in our cultures and military rankings to every new quarian you meet…" She pressed a button on the terminal with finality, then turned around to put her hands on his shoulders.

"Or I could just get used to it, I know…" he finished for her. She tilted her head in confusion when he replied.

"No, that wasn't the other option."

"Oh?"

"The other option would be to formally cede command of your vessel to another person aboard the ship. That frees you of the obligation. However…" she began with feigned concern, and the grin on his face only grew wider. She had truly come into her own since they'd fought Saren together, and it showed. "in order to avoid the exact same problem happening with the new captain, you'd need someone who would be alright with being called by that title. Which means a quarian."

"Tali'Zorah vas Neema," John began with a shocked tone, "are you trying to swindle my ship out from under me?"

"What?" A hand left his shoulder and went straight to her chest in indignation. "I would never, _captain._ I was merely presenting options to relieve you of the stress of misinformed quarians. We can be such a pain, sometimes." He laughed softly and smiled down into her visor, into those glowing white eyes. He held her gaze for along moment before she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest and letting out a deep breath. When she spoke, her words were muffled, soft and careful.

"It's been a while since we've had a chance to talk," she paused hesitantly, and he tightened his hold on her. The simple gesture seemed to reassure her.

"I know, and I'm sorry, Tali. I've just be—"

"No," she interrupted, pulling away to hold him at arm's length and look him in the eye. "Don't apologize, Shepard. You've been wrapped up in this mission, I know. It's just like old times: you out here, saving the galaxy, working with a ship full of aliens, or in this case mercenaries. I'm along for the ride; I know the drill."

"Still," he began, "I should be able to make some time for us. Especially with…everything that's happened lately." He began to feel the back of his neck tingle, and it took all his physical restraint to not send a hand to it immediately.

"Is something wrong?" The words were spoken softly, but the fear inside them was apparent. John smiled back at her, his best smile. He opened his mouth to reply when EDI's voice split through the air.

" _Shepard, my local scanners are picking up a vessel approaching at rapidly decelerating FTL speeds."_

"Bring up the Kodiak on the engineering terminal."

Stepping to Tali's side, John kept his arm around her waist as the Normandy's external cameras showed him a view of space, with the shuttle Kal and Amys sat in floating harmlessly in the black.

" _Estimated rendezvous time is sixteen seconds."_

John stared at the screen, and exactly sixteen seconds later, a frigate-sized ship dropped out of FTL right next to the shuttle. Hearing a sharp gasp from Tali, he turned his head to look at her. She caught his gaze, and answered the unasked question.

"That's a squad ship tied to the Neema…Admiral Gerrel came personally."

"Admiral? Like your father?"

"Yes," she replied, not taking her eyes off the image of the ship. "He's my father's oldest friend…only friend, really." The remorse was palpable in her words, but he let her continue. "If he's come in person, he must have something extremely important to talk to Kal about… _Keelah_ I hope they're alright…" He squeezed her with the arm still encircling her waist, and she finally looked up at him.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. Hell, after Haestrom, every one of those people is a hero as far as I'm concerned. I can't see your Admirals thinking any differently once they pick them up." She nodded, but still held his gaze, concern evident in her eyes. A thought popped into his head, and he spoke to the air.

"EDI, can you give me a discreet tap on the audio inside the Kodiak?"

" _Yes, Shepard. I've tapped into the Kodiak's audio systems now, forwarding the relay to your current terminal."_

No sooner had the AI finished than a soft _hiss_ began to emanate from the terminal. John shuddered for a moment, remembering his own death, then shook it off, listening to the voices inside the shuttle.

" _Yes, Admiral Gerrel,"_ came Kal's voice. _"Shepard was called back for a high-clearance mission, he was generous enough to give us the shuttle, told us to just leave it here and activate the beacon, he'd pick it up later if possible."_ A short pause hung in the air before he replied again. _"Yes, sir. All five of us are aboard, though the interior is not clean, repeat_ _ **not**_ _clean."_ Another brief pause. _"Understood sir, I appreciate it. I assure you, we're all ready to head home for a bit, but we'll be ready for whatever you've got waiting for us."_

The sound relay cut out, and EDI spoke once more. _"I apologize, Shepard, but maintaining the monitoring protocols to the Kodiak would have allowed the small possibility of our location becoming known to the approaching vessel."_

"That's alright, EDI." He looked down into Tali's eyes again as he spoke. "I think we heard all we needed to." She nodded, and the terminal in front of them cut out. Waiting a moment for privacy, he turned to her fully, placing his hands on her shoulders. "And no, nothing is wrong. I haven't been happier than I have been recently since…" _Mindoir_ , he thought. He let his words trail off, but he knew it was true. Since he was a child; since he'd enjoyed a simpler life, when the greatest aspirations he had were a field full of wheat and for everyone in the colony to know his name. Repressing ghosts from his past, he smiled down at her now-worried face and continued. "…well, for a long time. I just wish we had more time together, is all."

She visibly relaxed, leaning into him and putting her head on his chest once more. " _Keelah_ , so do I. Don't get me wrong; Lia is very helpful, as is Gabby, and even Ken brings some humor to the day at the very least, but…"

"You miss Adams and the others."

"Yes." She looked up at him with a resolve in her eyes he had rarely seen before. "I miss the old crew, I miss the old days. But this…" she stepped back, holding his hands in hers as she continued. "This is a gift that makes all the pain worthwhile. Sometimes though, I feel like even this isn't enough."

"What do you mean?...What can I do?" She laughed at his eagerness to help, a ringing, slightly metallic sound, and he smiled.

"It's not a matter of what can **you** do…it's a matter of what can **I** do." She stared up at him, and tapped her visor when he tilted his head in slight confusion.

"Tali…" he said gently, "you know you don't have to do anything like th—"

"I know," she interrupted him. "I know. But I want to." She pulled away from him, turning to stare at the drive core through the open doorway as she spoke. " _Keelah_ I want you to be able to **see** me, John. I want the physical part of…whatever this is between us…to consist of more than just telling looks and post-combat medical care!" She turned back to face him, not anger or frustration filling her eyes, but sadness, simple and plain. "I want to feel your arms around me with my own skin, not a synthetic suit that tells me what that **might** feel like. For my entire life, something like that has just been a given. But now…with us…I don't know…I **feel** that inadequacy more."

He crossed the distance between them wordlessly, holding her gaze until she had to look up to keep looking him in the eye. "You know the…numerous…risks something like that involves?" She snorted, crossing her arms in front of him in mock annoyance.

"Please, Shepard. I'm a quarian. Suit maintenance and a constant fear of anything and everything microbial is how we're raised."

He nodded slowly, keeping her gaze. Her eyes darted back and forth between his own. She was standing steadily, but she was nervous. The reason why hit him like a ton of bricks, and it slipped out of his mouth before he could rein it in. "You want **me** to decide."

"No," she replied hesitantly. "I've already decided...I think. I just… _keelah_ why is this so hard?…I just want you…to want…what I want…"

He laughed softly and took her hands in his own. "Tali...Of course I want to see you, to be able to hold you. But your health and safety are more important to me than whatever that moment would give either of us." She lowered her eyes to the deck, nodding in sober agreement. He lifted her chin with a finger and continued when he held her gaze again. "That being said, if we can be safe about it, and minimize the risks…then yes, I'd like that."

Her eyes widened, and she spoke quickly. "I'll…I'll do some research, see what I can come up with," she said, squeezing his hands in her own. "I'll find some way to make this work, I promise."

He smiled back at her. "It's **already** working, Tali. No matter what your research turns up. Just remember that, alright?" She nodded, and he nodded back. "Ok then. I'm heading up to Deck Three to see if Chakwas needs anything, care to join me for a meal afterwards?"

"Sounds great. I just have to finish these core diagnostics and I'll be right up."

John smiled, leaning forward to kiss the top of her _realk_ and giving her hand a squeeze before turning to leave. As he stepped into the lift and pressed the button for Deck Three, he couldn't help but let out a deep breath. He wouldn't lie to himself and say that he wasn't curious to know what Tali looked like, but he didn't want to risk her health either. Curious yet conflicted, he stepped out onto the Crew Deck with a smile on his face, nodding to the crew as he passed them. Conflicted wasn't the mark of a commanding officer.

* * *

"Use spare parts out of the Alarei's cargo bay if necessary, I want those platforms up and running by the end of the day. Strings 586 through 714 require at least three geth networked for the attack to strike at full potency." Admiral Rael'Zorah spoke as he walked along the corridors of the Alarei, two of his team of engineers in tow making notes on their omni-tools as they followed.

"Sir," one of them began hesitantly, "I understand the necessity of testing these algorithms, but the risk of bringing these pieced-together platforms online, much less allowing them to _network_ …"

Rael stopped walking, turning instead to look her in the eye. "I know the risks. I also know the potential for our Fleet, for our **species** , if just one of these attacks proves successful. We must continue, no matter the cost."

"Agreed, sir," the other engineer spoke up, "but the pieces we're using to construct these platforms are…highly irregular. If we could send out some salvage teams to bring back more actual geth parts…perhaps even contact Tali'Zorah to see if she cou—"

"Absolutely not!" Rael turned to fully face the man as he continued. "Tali risked enough on her Pilgrimage sending us what material she could; I don't want her exposed to any political blowback this situation could create. And sending out salvage teams would be too conspicuous. We must work with what we have here aboard the Alarei."

"Understood, Admiral." They nodded and turned to run off, and Rael stopped in front of the door to his quarters aboard the ship with a sigh. Looking to his left and up the last flight of stairs in this direction, he thought about the terminals of information within the room they led to. Over two years' worth of work, his life's purpose in that terminal, and here he stood hoping no one ever saw it; hoping no one ever realized what he'd done in the name of keeping his people safe, giving them hope.

Shaking his head, he opened the door, stepping inside and locking it once it closed automatically. He stared at his desk, and the datapads on it, for a long while before deciding to instead just get some sleep. The crew would construct the additional needed platforms while he slept, and when he awoke, they would begin a new round of testing; hopefully this time with more positive results.

* * *

"Are you sure? I mean _keelah_ , Amys, I'm right here." Kal offered his hand to her, and just like the last time, she swatted it away.

"Yes, Kal, I'm sure. I just have t—" she collapsed back down onto the bench with a groan of pain, clutching her midsection. He moved to help her, but the glare she shot him rooted him in place. He stepped back and watched as she tried again to lean forward and stand up on her own. After two more tries, and quite a bit of swearing, she managed to get to her feet, her left hand permanently holding her wound as she stood as straight as possible. "See?" she began between labored breaths, "Standing and ready. Hand me a rifle and I'm practically good to go."

Kal laughed despite the situation, and her eyes softened to him. The soft _hiss_ of the pressurizing airlock that had been the background for their conversation these past few minutes finally stopped, and the two of them turned to see the door slide open, admitting Admiral Han'Gerrel and two other marines. Kal saluted, as did Amys as best she could, and the Admiral nodded to them. The marines stepped past them with nods to begin carrying the other wounded one and a time back into the shuttle they'd brought, and Kal set the shuttle's locator beacon before following Han and Amys back down the boarding tunnel to the Admiral's shuttle.

They passed wordlessly through the main interior of the shuttle, past medics checking over the work of the two doctors aboard Shepard's ship, and into a small room in the back of the shuttle. Admiral Gerrel closed the door behind them, and moved behind the small desk the room had set up. Only then did he address them.

"Kal, Amys, I'm terribly sorry for what happened on Haestrom. We received the data Tali'Zorah sent, and while helpful…"

"It wasn't worth the cost," Amys finished for him, rather harshly. "Not even remotely…sir." Kal looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but Admiral Gerrel only nodded in agreement.

"I know. It most surely wasn't." A quiet moment passed between the three of them, before he spoke again. "How serious is your wound?"

Amys shrugged, and Kal suppressed a laugh at her nonchalant appraisal of the injury she'd been steadily holding with one hand for the past few hours. "I'll live, sir. Shepard had some fantastic medics on that ship. A few weeks downtime and I'll be ready for action again."

"I think, given recent occurrences, we can accommodate that. It will, after all, take us about that long to get your ship and crew together." Kal narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Sir?"

He motioned for the two of them to approach his small desk, and they did so. Running his fingers rapidly over a datapad he held, he found the recording he was looking for, and loaded it onto the device as he spun it around so the two of them could see. "This is an intra-suit recording. It, along with thousands of hours more, was submitted to our archives after the completion of its owner's Pilgrimage; as is customary when one's suit is upgraded to reflect that completion. These were select recorded moments; events on one's Pilgrimage deemed of value to the Fleet as a whole, and contributed when that quarian returns to us." Kal took his eyes off of the still image on the datapad, looking up to the admiral and nodding.

"Right, that's standard procedure."

"Yes, though this footage in particular is…very troubling. It's owne—"

"Tali, Admiral Gerrel," Amys finished for him again. "It's Tali's recording, that's Shepard standing in front of that control terminal in the still frame."

"Very well then, so much for anonymity. _Tali'_ s recording here has given the entire Admiralty Board cause for alarm. Admiral Shala'Raan herself pulled it up in an effort to learn more about Shepard, in the wake of what happened on Freedom's Progress and now again on Haestrom. I trust you'll understand why once it's done." He reached down to begin the playback, then stopped halfway, drawing both their gazes to his own. "Four people in the entirety of the Fleet have seen what you're about to see. I think it goes without saying that this is highly classified." They nodded, and he reached down to begin the recording. It sprang to life, through the view of Tali's visor as Shepard approached what appeared to be a control terminal, above which hovered a blood-red holographic image of a familiar ship.

" _This doesn't look good…"_ The voice came from the right, and the screen swung towards it, showing a turian holding an assault rifle. Swinging back forward, the image grew larger as Tali had walked closer to the terminal. Her voice, so much younger than the one Kal had heard only a day ago, could be heard speaking. It was strange, and a bit awkward for him as well, to hear Tali's voice without the usual metallic accompaniment that her helmet added, as her internal audio recorders captured her natural voice.

" _Is that some sort of VI?"_

" _Not sure…"_ Shepard stepped closer to the terminal on-screen, and Kal's eyes grew wide as the image spoke.

" _ **Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh…you touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding…"**_


	18. Questions and Answers

***Author's Note***  
This was meant to be a big gigantic chapter that included  
the Korlus mission and its aftermath, but because I haven't  
put anything up in a while and I'll be swarmed with schoolwork  
for the next 4-5 days, I thought I'd just release it as-is, so you have  
something to tide you over. =)

Things I want to clear up about certain characters and how they are  
in ME2/ME3 versus here:  
 **Harbinger** : Will be more Sovereign-like, detached, disdainful, aloof. He  
was too emotional in ME2, I want to rein that in a bit, make Reapers 'cold scary' again.  
 **Kai Leng:** Less idiotic, over-the-top-ness, more cold, intelligent killer, ideally I  
want to make your blood chill when you read the things he does. If you finish my  
work and you hate Kai not because he's a bad **character** , but because he's a  
bad **person** , I consider that a win personally.  
 **TIM:** Maybe one of the **most** -altered characters. Huge plans, very excited.  
So if you don't like these characters generally, give them a chance here, and  
tell me what you think!

Enjoy! And to everyone who's recently joining us, leaving me reviews  
on this work, as well as the older TDN, thanks so much for picking  
up the story! I hope you like it. =)

* * *

**Questions and Answers**

The figure on the page was an owl, sitting high above in a tree, speaking down through the branches to a wise old man seated beneath. The whole scene was drawn beautifully, spanning across both pages of the old leather-bound book, and though over three centuries old, the colors had not faded at all. The vibrant green on the leaves still gave them life, the carefully applied browns of the owl's feathers still imparted a visible texture, and the black ink in which the text was written had lost little of its clarity. The book had been well-preserved, mainly on account of its previous owner, the London Museum of Ancient Art; though its current owner had taken no less delicate care of it. She smiled as she ran a gloved finger delicately down the page, reading the ancient language of her ancestors. She shifted to move out of her cross-legged position on her bed and winced as she forgot, and was painfully reminded of, her injured and bandaged leg.

Closing the book softly in one hand, she stood shakily. The medi-gel had seen to the serious nature of the burns, and prevented the possibility of infection, but Mordin had been clear that there would still be quite a bit of pain. As it turned out, 'a bit' had been an understatement. Delicately, she put her injured leg forward and put weight on it, leaning forward carefully instead of putting her full force on it at once. Agony surged up from the plasma burn, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to let it stop her. Breathing deeply, she shifted her weight to her good leg and stuck the injured one out again, taking a step towards her desk. The door to her room opened mid-step, and the surprise of it threw off her balance, sending her tumbling. She threw her hands forward on instinct to catch herself, and an icy pit formed in her stomach as the book she'd been reading flew through the air toward the open door.

A soft _thud_ sounded back through the doorway, and she arched an eyebrow in confusion as she pushed off the wall, leaning to look out the door. Garrus stood just outside her room, holding her SMG in one hand, and the ancient book in the other, looking down at the latter with confusion painted all over his face.

"Hey, nice timing!" she called out to him. It seemed to shake him out of his stupor, and he continued into the room. Seeing her leaning against the wall, he laughed softly, putting her book and weapon down on the bed before moving to help her across the room to her chair.

"I heard Mordin told you to lay off the leg for a few days. So I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised to see you up walking on it." He returned the smile she gave him as she plopped down into the chair with a sigh and continued. "Throwing books though, that's new."

"Trust me, I didn't intend to throw it. You saved me a lot of heartache there."

Garrus turned to look over his shoulder at the small book on her bed. "How so?"

"That book is over three hundred years old. One of my favorite jobs; it's…special to me." It had been her last job she'd done solo, and the reward she'd obtained was more personal than most.

"Ah, I see," he began, turning to look at her again. "Well, glad I could help out with the preservation. Somehow I think the deck of the ship would have been a little less forgiving."

She laughed aloud, propping her feet up on the desk. The entire leg of her suit where she'd been burned was still torn off, but lately the last thing she'd wanted to think about was armor repair. In its place was a thickly-wound bandage, the normally tan skin around the injury red with burns. She winced at the action, and smiled at his momentary start to help her. "I'll be alright, not the first time I've been hurt on the job; and I'm sure it won't be the last, either."

"Sure, but a leg wound? That's serious stuff. I mean look at what you've been through already: minor tissue surgery, a big clumsy bandage, dull aching pain. Hell, next thing you know Mordin will start making you use burn cream. And you know how much of a nightmare **that** is to apply." She nodded her head in an over-exaggerated fashion, playing off of his feigned concern as she grinned.

"Definitely, I shudder at the thought. But I'm sure there'd be **someone** on this ship who'd offer to assist me. Maybe I'll ask around if it comes to it."

"Absolutely, I know I would. Just be sure to get someone from this deck, I mean the lift takes forever…"

A silent moment passed between them, and while they both smiled at each other, Kasumi felt an odd tension building inside her head. This whole…situation…was completely wrong. Why was she acting this way? Keiji was still dead, Hock was still alive, and she was here making small talk? She cursed herself inside her own head, looking past Garrus's now-confused face and towards her bed. "So, what's up with my gun?"

"Ah…oh, no," he began, looking behind him as if seeing the weapon for the first time. "No, everything is solid with it. I just wanted to check it over for damage from the attack. Also, the barrel was a little off-center, so I re-mounted it; should be a hair more accurate now."

"Oh! Well…great! Thank you, Garrus, I appreciate it."

"Not a problem, just doing what I can." Another strange silence passed between them, and Garrus broke it by standing as he spoke again. "Well, I should probably let you get back to…ah…reading. And hey, stay off that leg, alright? Mordin may seem a little crazy, and to be fair he probably is, but he knows what he's doing." He tapped the side of his face as he spoke, and she smiled again.

"I suppose so. Thanks for looking out for me."

"What can I say?" he began, spreading his arms open as he backed towards the door. "I'm a sucker for cute girls with guns." She fumbled for words in her mind, something witty, something sarcastic…but nothing came to her. He smiled as the door to her quarters closed in front of his face, leaving her alone again.

She pulled her feet off the desk, leaning forward to prop her elbows up on the table and place her forehead in her upturned palms as her mind raced. What the hell was she **doing**?

In the hallway, he dropped his hands as the door closed, putting one to his forehead as he turned to walk back to the battery. He knew her story, knew the situation with…the other guy. So what the hell was he **doing**?

* * *

"Wh-What the **hell** are you **doing**?" Miranda had to suppress the urge to laugh aloud at her opponent as he moved the knight in a completely incapable manner.

"What? It can't move like that?" Jacob's tone was as incredulous as the move he'd been attempting. "No, it definitely can. Come on, I learned this game when I was a kid, I know the rules."

Restraint no longer served her, and she erupted into laughter, glad and lucky all at once that the doors and walls to her quarters were soundproofed. It simply would not do for the crew to see her like this. But Jacob, he wasn't the crew. He was something else entirely. Composing herself again, and ignoring the scowl he gave her from where he sat reclined in the chair across from her, arms crossed tightly over his chest, she took the piece from where he'd placed it and replied as she tapped any of the four squares he was able to move to.

"Here, here, here, or here," she instructed with finality. " **Those** are your options. I don't know where you learned the game, but that's how it's done." A moment of silence passed between them, and just as she was about to say something, he melted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he chuckled.

"Come to think of it, my uncle never really did have it all there, you know? Wouldn't be surprised if I learned the game all wrong."

She smiled, leaning back and crossing her legs. "Well that's good to hear, Jacob. Admittance is the first step to recovery."

He laughed softly as he shook his head, then raised his eyes to look at her. Slowly, his expression became more serious, until he spoke up again, this time in a whisper.

"Hey, I want to ask you something."

"Sure, Jacob. Go ahead."

"It's just…look I like the no-restrictions policy Cerberus has, the ability for us to just go and **do** something about an issue that threatens humanity, like we're doing right now. But…I've been to different facilities since joining, and I've done weapons prep for wet-works…and those guys…they're xenophobic to the core. You ever…feel like we're in too deep? That this whole organization is in it too deep?"

She looked down and away, mulling over what he'd proposed in her head. After several seconds of silence, she replied. "Perhaps. After all, The Illusive Man makes it clear he holds humanity in higher regard than any other species. But I suppose he has a right to think that way if he likes, just as we do. For my part, I know that all I care about is my people, our species. That doesn't mean I'm planning to take a rifle and go asari-hunting next time we're on the Citadel, but if it's them or us you can be damn sure I'm pulling the trigger."

"Yea, I see where you're coming from. But at the same time, the boss knows about the Reapers, knows what's coming, and he's sending Shepard to pick up a kaleidoscope of aliens, stuff them onto this ship, and figure out a way to stop them. Just seems weird, with his pro-humanity approach, to fill this warship full of non-humans."

"Well we know his only goal is the survival of humanity. Regardless of what happens once the Reapers are gone, if the best minds and mercenaries in the galaxy right now are aliens, I'm happy to bring them aboard. Have you…" she trailed off, wanting to ask the question delicately, and almost laughing at herself at the thought. 'Delicate' was not a word used to describe Miranda Lawson, but for Jacob…she wanted to be, at least in this. "Have you ever considered that maybe Cerberus is less about xenophobia and more about xenocentrism?"

"Sure, I have. It's just…hard to do when you see some of the guys who are supposedly on the same side as you." He leaned back, letting out a deep breath as he ran a hand across his shaved head. "I don't know, it just seems like something isn't on the level, Miranda. And I can't really put my finger on it, but I know it's there." He stood, leaning back to stretch the muscles in his back. "But hey, I'm just a soldier, right? Maybe I should be leaving the philosophy to others more qualified." He winked at her and turned to leave. "Should get back, working on upgrades to everyone's equipment; hoping to get them done before we land at the next stop. Oh, wait."

He spun on his heel, crossing the room again and leaning back over to the board. Picking up a bishop, he slid it clear across the board to take her knight. "Checkmate." His eyes moved up to find her face a mask of disbelief.

"How…you lied to me."

"Deception is all part of the battle, Miss Lawson." He practically beamed as he straightened and turned towards the door again. "Thanks for the company."

"Likewise," she called to him as he walked through the doorway. As the door closed behind him, she looked back down to the board, laughing once to herself at her completely lack of foresight in the game they'd just played. Shaking her head slowly, she stood up and crossed back over to their desk. Her terminal glowed softly, a steady indicator that she had received more dossiers from Cerberus. Gingerly taking a sip of coffee from the mug on her desk, she opened the first one, and gasped.

The burns on her tongue would take days to heal.

* * *

"You think…just because you're some biotic powerhouse…just because you've killed a fe—Ahh!...a few people…that you're tough as nails then, yea?" Sweat rolled down the former mercenary warlord's forehead as he visibly struggled to keep his arm upright. Fortunately for him, his rail-thin female opponent was having equal difficulty, having agreed not to use said biotics.

"Tougher than you…'oooh look at me, I got shot through the skull, I'm so—' Damn it!..."

"You've got a goddamn mouth on you…I'll give you that."

"Gee thanks…thought I might have been born without one…Good to have that cleared up, doctor."

He summoned the last of his strength, sending it racing down from his shoulder. It coursed around his elbow and up his forearm, and he leaned into it as he slammed her arm down. The back of her hand slapped the top of the metal workbench with a resounding _smack_ , and he released her arm, leaning back and taking a deep breath.

"Fuck you!" Jack nursed the back of her hand but glared at him.

"Sorry, girl. I'm about twenty years past that point." He grinned at her, and she laughed, a cold sound, more in appreciation for his crassness than actual humour.

"Damn, crying shame."

"You know it." A small silence passed between them, and he closed his eyes. There wasn't much to see down here anyway, and even if there were it would all have been bathed in the red emergency lighting. "So," he began again at last. "I've got war stories, you've got ink. What's the story with the artwork?"

She leaned back, propping her boots up on the table and cradling the back of her head in her hands. "Some are for kills, good ones, ones worth remembering."

"Have a few of those myself."

"Yea, I'd imagine you do. Others are for personal shit. Like, the kind of shit you don't talk about with creepy old guys."

"Ouch, that one almost hurt."

"Almost, huh? I must be losing my edge." Zaeed laughed, and she looked around the room before leaning forward, pulling her boots off the table so she could lean her elbows on it instead. "You see all the shit this ship has in it? I mean we could take this thing and just go completely pirate. A thousand credits says there isn't a ship this size in the galaxy that could go toe-to-toe with it."

"No," he replied, looking around now at the darkened storage space, as if he could see through the bulkhead to the many features the ship had. "I doubt there is. Still, turning on an employer without a damn good reason is a good way to find yourself out of work."

"Work? Fuck that. We take this ship, we never have to work again. You said it yourself, I'm a biotic powerhouse, you're obviously **some** kind of useful with that cannon or you'd be long dead by now. What's stopping us?"

"I'll tell you what's stopping us, kid." He leaned forward to mimic her posture, his voice getting lower than usual. "My normal contracts for jobs pay a decent amount, especially if I'm bringing some piece of trash in alive. The money Cerberus offered me for this job…well, let's just say it was enough that I took it willingly, **knowing** it was probably a suicide mission. Because on the off-chance that it's **not** , and we come out of this thing in one piece…I'll be able to buy a whole goddamn fleet."

She looked at him for a long moment before sighing and leaning back again. "Fine. Pussy."

He laughed at her response, and she arched an eyebrow. "Believe me, kid. You may have been locked up for the past however many years, but I've been out and around. I've seen the vids of Shepard and his team on the Citadel. You'd never take him."

"I think I could surprise him."

He laughed again, shaking his head. "No, kid, I **really** doubt you could." At her confused expression, he pointed an index finger past her left shoulder. As she turned to follow it, her eyes swept up and into the corner. The surveillance camera's red light stayed steadily lit, its lens occasionally auto-adjusting to make sure it kept her in focus.

"Fuck."

* * *

Chakwas sat in the medbay, leaning back in her chair, hands over her closed eyes to block out the residual light shining through her eyelids. The darkness was comforting, but more so was the silence of the medbay. The past few days had been chock full of beeping machines, the humming of air compression and filtration systems, and the endless sterilization cycles…taking her hands away from her eyes, she held them in front of her for examination. The backs of them were a pinkish red color, a testament to the harsh and regular application of hot water and hospital-grade sterilizer. Still, she thought with a heavy sigh, it had been worth it. It always was when there were lives in the balance. No matter what race they belonged to.

She chuckled aloud to herself as she leaned forward, standing and shaking her head as she looked around the medbay. As she appraised the room, the doors opened, admitting a weary Mordin Solus, who caught the tail-end of her laughter as he entered.

"Amused, doctor?"

"Oh, Mordin…" she began wearily, taking her seat again with an exasperated slump. "What did we get ourselves into, becoming doctors?"

"Yes," he replied, walking towards the only other chair in the room as the doors behind him closed together. "Can be very thankless position. Long hours, grueling procedures…still, saving lives its own reward, yes?" Smiling, she nodded to him, and he looked down at the chair quizzically.

"Problem?"

"Not necessarily, confusion. Trying to remember how much time has passed since last used a chair."

She laughed aloud, and he turned to look at her, a small smile growing on his lips as she replied. "Well whatever result you come to, Mordin, it's been too long, I assure you."

He barked out a single, mirthful laugh as he sat down. "Yes, yes it has."

* * *

"I'll tell you, I wasn't sure at first, I really wasn't." Vickers pushed another chip forward from the pile in front of him as he spoke. "But I'll easily say he's been the best c/o I've ever had, Alliance time included."

"Aye, he's a good man," Ken agreed, pushing two of his chips forward. The others put in an additional, meeting his raise. "I never had a doubt. Gabby however…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she followed his speaking, interrupting herself mid-drink to do so. "I joined up with you, **made** them bring me on as part of your job offer, **remember**?"

"Ah, but how could I forget?" a round of laughter made its way throughout the crew room, and Gabby delivered a swift punch to Ken's shoulder, earning a grunt of pain followed by a boyish grin.

"He was pretty cold to me the first few days aboard," Kelly chimed in, looking over a datapad that she held as she pushed her chips into the pile. "Still, something happened. I still don't think he trusts Cerberus, but he's trusting us at least." She looked up, smiling to her opponents. "I can live with that distinction."

"You're telling me," Vickers replied. "I brought my nav calculations to him when he was on the bridge the other day; you'd think I'd have asked him the meaning of life when I handed them to him, he looked so confused. I asked if something was wrong, and he asked me why I was handing him my readouts. Said he trusted us to know what we're doing without being constantly monitored. Can't say I've ever had a boss like that before…" He took a long drink as the rest of them nodded in understanding. He put his glass down, continuing to speak. "Hey, heard there's two aliens working down in engineering now." He leaned forward, speaking quietly at Ken. "Pretty soon you're gonna be overrun…"

Kelly looked up from her datapad curiously, keeping both men in her sight. Ken took a long look at Vickers before chuckling and leaning forward as well. "Well, if they're **half** as good as Lia or Tali, I'll take a third as well, makes my job that much easier. Besides, I've got something they'll never have, for all their brains." Vickers arched an eyebrow, and Ken finished. "Gentlemanly charm, Vickers." The room exploded in laughter, even Vickers joining in, and Ken slapped his cards down on the table, instantly turning the laughter into bemoaned groaning as everyone realized he'd won. Ken scooped up his chips, and Kelly went back to her datapad, both wearing smiles on their faces.

* * *

"And oh his face…man, his **face**! You should have seen it. I swear it was as if we could **see** the indecision in his brain. 'Do I kill them? Laugh? Cry?' It was all I could do to not tell her to throw another one just to see what would happen!"

Beside him, Tali laughed at the recollection of their time on Noveria, and Joker across the table simply shook his head as he chuckled. He and Tali had originally sat down alone, but when Joker had approached them with a smile after yawning on the way down the hall from the bridge, John had waved him over.

"I bet, Commander. To be honest, I'm thinking you had a bigger influence on him than you think, telling him to follow his instincts and all that."

"You think so, huh?"

"Definitely. I mean, he's definitely worked that stick out of his ass, you know the one I was always asking him about. Only now, it's like he's trying to beat everyone to death with it." John laughed, nodding as he did.

"I know what you mean." A serious look grew on his face before he continued. "But you should have seen it in there, Joker…there were a lot of bodybags…last time I saw that many, the Citadel had been crashing around us a couple hours before."

"Yea…" his pilot's reply was almost a whisper. He seemed to want to say more, but Miranda approached them from her office, setting a datapad down beside John."

"Commander, sorry to interrupt you." Her sincerely apologetic tone made him shoot a glance to Tali, who simply shrugged discreetly and tilted her head the smallest amount. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and look back up to his executive officer.

"Not a problem, Miranda, what do we have here?" He picked up the datapad as she spoke.

"Three more dossiers sent from the Illusive Man. They contain a noted asari biotic, an almost infamous drell assassin, and…the target we're closest to…a—"

"krogan warlord," he finished for her.

"Yes, Commander."

"Well then," he began, standing at the table. "Get everyone ready to go. EDI, is the quarian vessel gone yet?"

" _Yes, Shepard. Their vessel jumped the mass relay four minutes ago."_

"Good. Joker, get us to the Kodiak, we'll pick it up then head for the relay."

"Aye aye, Commander." He stood, saluted, and walked as proudly as possibly back up to the bridge. Miranda nodded, turning on a heel and heading back towards her office. Tali stood up beside him, squeezing his hand before turning to head for the lift. He gripped her hand tightly, and pulled her back to him. She whipped her head around, examining the deck for any other inhabitants. Seeing none, she rested her head on his chest, and he embraced her tightly.

"Don't worry," he whispered in mock comfort. "Last I heard, krogan were all nice, peaceful, monastic sorts. You know, book readers and such. The **warlords** even more so. It's a very _ironic_ title, they like it that way."

She laughed, pushing away from him and walking away. As she reached the lift, she called back over her shoulder. "Well this one better learn my damn name. I swear if he calls me "the quarian" **once** …" He laughed aloud as the lift doors opened and she took it down, waving to him as the doors closed. He returned the gesture, then turned back towards the bridge, ready to continue their mission.

* * *

" _Keelah_ …So…he was right. Everything he'd said after the Citadel was safe, all that about the Reapers…was all true?" Kal folded his arms across his chest, still unsure of what he'd just seen, but knowing it couldn't be good. "I mean, I'd have believed him on Tali's word alone but…this just proves it…it's all true…"

"It would appear so," Admiral Gerrel said softly. "That is clearly the ship that attacked the Citadel, claiming to be an independent lifeform. 'We are each of us a nation,' it said."

"Reminds me of the geth," Amys spoke up, still leaning with her hands on the table, staring down into the now-blank screen of the datapad. "But as far as I know quarians have never even…I mean do you remember the _size_ of the thing?"

"Yes," Gerrel responded, "quite vividly. And it wasn't anything we could have done. Not if we scrapped half the fleet." A long silence hung between them, and then Kal stepped forward.

"Alright well, Shepard already knows they're out there, right? But the problem is no one else believes him. So, we take this to the Council, **show** them the truth, then they'll have to do something. Hell, if nothing else it could help this stigma the galaxy's got against us."

"No, Kal," Amys stood up to face him fully. "If we took that video to the Council, they would just claim that the reaper was some sort of geth creation. We don't have anything here that can prove otherwise."

"And when the Council believes that a sentient starship attacking the Citadel was a geth creation, the geth being created by the quarians…" he trailed off, and Amys finished for him.

"They'll only hate us more." Kal shook his head in disbelief, and another silent moment passed before he spoke up again.

"So what do we do with the data, Admiral? You can't be showing this to us just for the hell of it."

"No, Kal, I'm not." He moved back behind his desk, bringing up his terminal. On its screen a small frigate appeared, with the names of five quarians beside it. "I'm assembling a small team, no more than five, including the two of you. You'll need a ship drive and core engineering specialist, an ordnance officer, and an expert pilot. I'm leaving the selection of the crew to you, Kal."

"I'm…honored, sir. But I still don't understand…"

"I'm sorry," Gerrel said, looking up from the display and walking around his desk to speak. "I'll elaborate. I'm sending you, Amys, and three others on a mission to find out anything we can about the Reapers before they get here. That…thing," he pointed toward the datapad, "said that our entire society, our entire history, has developed along their lines, the pathways **they** wanted us to take. What if that means they're still influencing it? And if so, how? _Keelah_ , Kal, what if the entire geth uprising that drove us to this nomadic torture was just another step in their plan? We know they're capable of it, look what they did to them when Shepard was hunting the rogue spectre!"

Kal nodded slowly, speechless, yet understanding. He looked over to Amys. Her three-fingered hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, but her eyes were on him. Upon meeting his gaze, she tilted her head slightly, and he gave her a sharp nod. This was their duty, no matter what happened. She nodded back, then turned her gaze toward Gerrel and spoke.

"Alright, Admiral. Where's our first stop?" The admiral nodded, circling behind his desk again and tapping the display. A small planet popped onto the screen, and Kal didn't even read the name before Gerrel spoke.

"Ilos."

* * *

His boots, though made of a substance as hard as steel, made no noise as he approached the dingy door in the Omega alleyway. All around him, the disgusting smell of intermingling alien cuisine assaulted his nostrils, while plasma lighting shone with great effort through the dingy casings on the walls, providing enough light to walk by, but not enough to recognize a man. To be honest, he probably preferred it that way.

Appraising the door with a muted inquisition, he ran his fingers along the edge where it met the frame. He had tortured a turian he'd heard bragging about his "contact network big enough to take even the humans down," but in the end all he'd gotten was some shithole address on the rough side of Omega. Unfortunate for him; more so for the turian. He unconsciously turned his head away as he remembered the fingers. They were always the most interesting part, when they bend in ways they shouldn't… Shaking his head, he refocused on the task at hand. The door seemed sound, no forced entry; well, not with a boot, at least. The batarian landlord hadn't been forthcoming with the information about the inhabitant, but a broken arm and a child at gunpoint were, as he had found more often than not, extremely effective motivators. In the end, they'd been useful, and had told him where to find the rented home.

More like a hovel, he thought as he pushed the door gently, causing it to swing in on its hinges. Immediately the smell of alien food was replaced by the hard-hitting stench of death. His nose twitched only a millimeter as he entered to see the long-dead salarian hunched over his desk. Blood pooled everywhere, and his heart rate began to climb as he moved forward to inspect. Grabbing the corpse by one of the appendages on his head, Kai flung it backwards, toppling the dead salarian out of the chair and pushing the chair out of his way with a booted foot. Pulling up terminal records was fruitless, a clean wipe, probably tied to a deadman switch, he thought angrily as he glared at the salarian's corpse.

He turned back to the terminal, and began a file recovery program. As he executed it he heard the faintest _click_ behind him, and a small smile crept onto his lips. He ducked and spun in one motion, causing the split-second-later shot to fly through where he'd once stood and into the wall behind the terminal. Hooking a foot under the chair he'd moved away, he flung it with all his might into the black-clad asari standing by the doorway. She crouched and threw her hands up, dropping her firearm but stopping the chair with a biotic field, and his grin became a full-fledged smile as he got to his feet. She did the same, adopting a close-quarters fighting stance before speaking.

"Whoever you are, you're digging too deep for some peoples' liking." He merely smiled at her. Let her talk, he thought to himself; three minutes and she's dead anyway. His silence only seemed to grate on her, and she threw her arms forward with a yell, unleashing a biotic wave that screamed across the room at him. Still, he was one step ahead, leaping forward and grabbing a low-hanging service pipe that ran across the ceiling of the small room. Twisting once he had a hold, he threw his legs forward, catching the asari in the face. She staggered back with a yelp, blood running freely from her nose and mouth, but as he closed she pulled a knife from her boot, slicing at him the closer he got.

He closed willingly, and she put a nice gash into his left forearm, and a cut across his face. They exchanged blows, her trying to free her hands for biotics, him slapping them away and delivering a crushing head-butt or knee assault. She spun, lowering herself in the process and shoving an open palm forward towards his midsection. Before she could fire, however, Kai sprang forward, grabbing all four of her fingers in one hand and snapping them back. She howled in pain, and he stepped to the side, rotating her arm before snapping it too out of socket. Her cries of agony grew louder, and he cupped his hand under her chin, slamming her head back into the metal wall of the residence with a loud _thud_. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Standing, he dusted his hands in approval and examined his wounds; minor, nothing severe. Grabbing the asari's unconscious body by its shattered arm, he dragged her back to the chair he'd thrown at her. Ripping the salarian's electrical cabling out of the wall, he fashioned a rope with it, fastening her securely to the chair but leaving her injured, and surely useless, arm free. He'd get the information he needed from the alien bitch and then tie up the loose end. Satisfied, he turned back to the salarian's computer, where his recovery program was still at work. As he waited for it to finish, he browsed through the other programs installed already. Chief among them was a wire-tap program that sent copied feeds of every camera in the local area directly to this terminal. He opened it, and a paranoia-inducing number of screens showed up. Shaking his head in amusement, he turned back to his prisoner, crossing his arms over his chest. All there was to do now was wait.

On the salarian's terminal, amidst the dozens and dozens of moving camera feeds, one remained still, although still very much live. A small landlord's office, cheaply decorated, clearly in need of repair. It's only two occupants were a pair of dead batarians: a male, well into his middle years, and a child of no more than five; both with cleanly placed bullet wounds in their skulls.


	19. War in Practice

***Author's Note***  
Sorry for the lack of updates, April is a bit of a hell  
month for me with school. Lots of projects and finals.  
I wanted to get this out there for you, and let you all  
know that until about 4/27 I'll be quite busy with school.  
Summer classes I've lined up should be a light load, though,  
so look forward to a more frequent update schedule soon.

Hope you like my take on Grunt/Okeer. Let me know! And  
as always, thanks very much for the comments/reviews/PMs.  
They make it all worthwhile!

Also, sorry for any errors, I rushed the last half of this chapter  
out before going to work today. I can always make changes later  
if anything pops up. Enjoy! :D

* * *

**War in Practice**

" _Miranda tells me you've arrived in the Imir system. She added in her report that you weren't even fazed at the prospect of recruiting a krogan warlord."_

John crossed his arms over his chest as he replied. "It's not as if I've never had one on my ship before."

" _Granted, but Urdnot Wrex was no warlord. Especially not one with such an…interesting history as Okeer. I think you may find him difficult to work with."_

"And I think you underestimate my persuasiveness."

" _Perhaps. I will admit, Shepard, the recruitment of all these aliens to your cause has been surprisingly simple. I had expected a bit more resistance, even among some of the human candidates."_

"I'll save you the guesswork: things go a lot easier when you play nice with people."

On the other end of the relay, the Illusive Man laughed half-heartedly as he took a long drag from his cigarette, breathing the smoke out along with his words. _"Diplomacy is great when it works, but difficult when everyone already perceives you as a threat._ "

"Right. And I'm sure there's **nothing** you could be doing to dispel that perception."

" _I'm not here to make friends, Shepard."_ He took another drag as he stared the soldier down. _"That's_ _ **your**_ _job. Contact me when Okeer is secured; I still haven't finalized the deal we're brokering to win over his assistance."_

John nodded, and the relay winked out. Stepping backwards off of the depressed conference room table, he turned to leave the room as the motorized mechanics beneath the floor began to elevate it once more. As he walked through the research lab and back towards the front of the ship, he shook his head slightly in displeasure at what he'd been told. It didn't matter what he was _here_ to accomplish, in the end the Illusive Man, along with everyone else, would need to stand together to stop the Reapers. With an enemy like that, with odds like theirs…he just didn't understand how some people could still be so xenophobic, so set in the idea that they could get everything done themselves. As he approached the bridge, he noticed Miranda standing beside Joker's seat, a datapad in her hands as she looked out the front viewport at the approaching planet. He could pick up Joker's voice as he arrived.

"—inside of ten minutes. The problem is, if there **is** anyone down there who'd rather we not walk in their front door, they'll know the second we reach their planetary perimeter."

Miranda nodded. "I understand. We'll have to ask Shepard what he wants to do, but for now just keep us close, without breaching it."

"You got it," he replied, tapping in some controls as she turned around to see John.

"Commander," she greeted him, handing the datapad his way. He took it and looked at the information it held as she summarized for him. "We're approaching the planet Korlus now. Well-known as a starship graveyard of sorts; expect lots of…well, junk, to be honest." He looked up at her with an amused smile, which she returned before continuing. "I've been scouring the extranet but I can't dig up precisely who operates the facilities there, it's all ver—"

"No need for it; I can tell you who operates Korlus." Zaeed spoke softly as he walked up the hallway to the bridge, examining his rifle. Incidentally, 'softly' for Zaeed meant that John and Miranda on the bridge could still hear him. "It's a Blue Suns operation, has been for years. They use it as a training ground for their new recruits, when they're not making a killing on selling off the salvage."

John turned to the approaching mercenary. "I feel like I should ask how you know that."

He chuckled before replying, a low mirthless sound. "I've done business on that rock before, know my way around. You'll want me with you. Unless you enjoy endless mazes of goddamn space garbage."

John nodded, and the man went back to checking his rifle as he walked back down the hall towards the lift. He clapped a hand on Joker's shoulder as he spoke. "Bring us in quiet, Joker, just close enough to slip the Kodiak past their large-ship sensors. I'm taking Zaeed and Tali in for a low drop. If this planet really is crawling with mercenaries, the last thing I want to do is start a war with them."

"Aye aye, Commander."

* * *

" _ETA to landing zone is approximately four minutes, Shepard."_ EDI's synthesized voice filtered into the cabin of the Kodiak shuttle as it hurtled toward the surface of the planet. _"I am detecting no sign of enemy aggression; for the moment, it appears we are unnoticed."_

"Good, EDI. Let's keep it that way."

" _Understood, Shepard."_

"Alright," he said, motioning for his team to crowd around the datapad he pulled out. Zaeed leaned over from across the narrow aisle between their benches, and Tali shifted closer to John on the seat they shared. The datapad showed a scarred and aged krogan, along with a plethora of information. Clan wars, skirmishes, large-scale torture and murder; He was about as textbook warmonger as a krogan could be. "This is Warlord Okeer. All the information we have on him goes dark about ten years ago. Last note we have is that he was on Tuchanka, trying to fight the genophage. Now he turns up here. Make no mistake," he paused, meeting both their gazes before continuing, "there's a good chance we won't recruit him. If his file is any indication, even a sweetened deal with the Illusive Man may not be enough to make him want to come with us. If he wants a fight, we'll have to give him one." They nodded silently. "Zaeed, anything to add?"

The shuttle touched down, and the mercenary spoke as they all stood and moved towards the door. "Yea. Last time I was here there was this annoyingly loud Suns radical. Loved to hear the sound of her own voice. If we get the chance, let's kill her. If she's still here, that is." The shuttle door opened with a _hiss_ , a harsh, debris-strewn terrain spreading out to greet them as a rough wind ripped through the open area in which the ship sat. A rough path cut through wreckage piled three-stories high on either side, and as they stepped out onto the ground, a sharp, metallic voice cut through the air.

" _There is only one measure of success: kill or be killed! Perfection is your goal!"_

"Yea," Zaeed grumbled, cocking his rifle as he began walking forward on the path, "that's her."

* * *

"Look, I realize I'm probably not your favorite person in the world…"

" _Ha! 'Not my favorite person in the world'? You practically haunted my financial office for three months straight! You questioned every single person who came out of there, and not-so-subtly threatened me on more than one occasion without a shred of evidence! To say you're not my favorite person is a gross understatement, Officer Vakarian."_

Garrus put a three-taloned hand to his head as he shook it slightly. He had known the call wouldn't be easy, but he could practically _feel_ the volus on the other end of the voice relay fuming. "It's ah…just Vakarian now."

" _Finally get drummed out of the service for inappropriate behavior, then?"_

"No, actually. If you must know, I quit. Too much red tape for me." He looked up from his omni-tool and into the bulkhead as he spoke, as if he could see through it, across the stars to Omega. The volus scoffed.

" _Huh. Can't say that reasoning surprises me, Vakarian."_ There was a brief pause, and Garrus eventually spoke.

"Look, are you going to help me or not? I've already told you who I'm looking for, and I need your help to find him."

" _Yes, yes, I'll help you find your missing person. Why you want to find him I won't bother asking; not sure I want to know, to be honest. And because we're such_ _ **great**_ _friends, Vakarian, I'm giving you a_ _ **special**_ _rate on the information."_

"'Special' meaning…?"

" _Tripled."_

Garrus sighed. "Fine, Barla. Just get back to me with what you find out." He tapped the omni-tool, severing the connection and leaning back against the wall of the battery. Staring up at the ceiling, he slammed his head back against the wall once, with force. He was going to fulfill Erash's dying request, all of their requests. He had promised. So why was he wasting his time with this?

* * *

The soft, tranquil music playing through her earpiece halted abruptly, replaced by the steady _beep_ of an accepted request. The voice filtered into her ear as soon as she touched her earpiece; clearly augmented, clearly computerized to hide the speaker's personality.

" _You told me you would never use this channel again."_

"I said a lot of things, Jerec. Especially back then; hell I was practically still a kid."

" _What do you need? I'm a busy man."_

"Busy? You?" She laughed softly as she leaned back on her bed, wincing again at her damaged leg. "I'd bet a hundred credits you're sitting in front of a huge vidscreen right now watching some terrible news cast because you think the reporter is pretty." There was a short pause.

" _And yet I am still…a busy man."_

She shook her head before replying. Some things never changed. "I need your help. I need to find someone, but he's in your territory; I wouldn't even know where to start."

" _I understand. Forward me the information you have, and it's done."_

"Thanks…I, ah…I can pay you for it. You know, if yo—"

" _Kasumi. It's done."_

A smile came to her lips. "Thanks, Jerec. For a moment I was scared you'd forgotten me."

" _Family never forgets. I'll contact you when I have something."_

The transmission cut out, but she wasn't hurt or insulted. It was just how Jerec was. He wasn't truly her family, but he was the closest thing. It also didn't hurt, she mentally added, that he was one of the biggest information brokers on the Citadel. Thinking of the space station made her shake her head in quiet frustration. She was supposed to be tracking down Hock, avenging Keiji, finding the clues inside his greybox. So why was she wasting time with this?

* * *

"Two left!" A series of shots followed Zaeed's call as John swung his rifle to find the two tank-bred krogan charging. A pair of concussive blasts knocked them back enough to let Zaeed tear into them with his incendiary rounds. While still a threat to be taken seriously, the tank-bred krogan seemed inferior to the ones he had fought in Saren's employ. They were slower to react, easier to target, and something just generally seemed…off…about them.

"How are we coming on that system, Tali?" He called over his shoulder to where she knelt hacking the door.

"It's decrypting, Shepard. I'm raiding the Blue Suns databanks while I wait. There isn't much more I can do to speed it up. I'm uploading everything they have to the Normandy's systems for analysis." John nodded as he continued to fire into the approaching krogan, surveying the battlefield as he fired. Ducking back into cover to reload, he slammed a new thermal clip into his rifle just as the doors snapped open to reveal three Blue Suns mercenaries. John's eyes shot wide with terror, and he raised his rifle in what felt like slow motion to aim it at the three mercenaries looming over Tali's crouched form.

In a split-second, Tali was spinning, sweeping the legs of the nearest Suns member and sending him to the ground. Springing up from the spin, she caught the center mercenary with a clean punch that dropped him unconscious. The third mercenary raised her pistol to fire point-blank, and John's rifle put four rounds into her chest. The whole exchange was over in seconds, and Tali nodded sharply to him before moving through the doorway. John tapped an until-now oblivious Zaeed on the shoulder, and the two of them fell back, locking the doors behind them and resting for a moment.

Taking the time to survey the room they'd accessed, John saw the ramshackle crew bunks, a table with half-eaten plates of food, and footlockers that no doubt contained the belongings of the soldiers they'd just taken out. As if on cue, the one Tali had knocked out began to stir, groaning as he attempted to get to his feet. Zaeed crossed to him, kicking his weapon away and grabbing the back of his chestplate to drag him roughly across the floor. He flung the man to slam back-first into the wall with a sharp grunt of pain, then squatted down in front of him, grabbing his chin in a gauntleted hand.

"Wake up, sleepy, you've got some questions to answer for me." The man's head lolled to the side, and Zaeed's other hand was there in a flash, slapping the man so hard across the face that his eyes snapped open as he cried out. "Let's try that again. Where's Okeer?"

John stood back, watching Zaeed work the mercenary over. Any other time he might have tried to stop the man, but for some reason he'd had this...vitriol towards the Suns since the second they'd landed. He was intent on killing this woman, Jedore he'd told them her name was, and any opportunity for violence against them was taken without question. It was something that made John curious…but not enough to step in and ask.

"Wh-who?" The man's eyes flicked wildly in every direction except the one that help Zaeed's face, and another slap, more powerful than the first, found its mark.

"The fucking **krogan** , you worthless little shit!"

"Ah! Ah yea…y-yea, there's a krogan, big mean one too. We're not allowed to talk to him, not even go near him, though I really doubt we'd want to…I mean he's…he's…"

"Scary. We get it. Well let me ask you a question." Zaeed put his face inches from the terrified mercenary's. "Right here, right now, which of us are you more afraid of?" The man visibly trembled, pointing to one of two exits to the room in which they stood.

"Th-that way! He's that way! Short hallway, two flights up, reception area, then right into his lab!" John nodded.

"Let's go."

"I'll catch you up, Shepard," Zaeed said, meeting John's eyes over his shoulder. "I'll finish this one off and be along." John nodded in reply, and as he left the room with Tali in tow, he looked back through the closing doorway to see Zaeed grab the man by the front of his armor and slam him hard against the wall again, instantly regaining his attention. He shook his head as he closed the door, unsure what to make of Zaeed today.

* * *

"You promised me super-soldiers, Okeer! An army of them!"

Okeer shut his eyes tightly, trying with every ounce of control he had not to reach out and destroy the weak human in a single blow. He could; he knew he had the potential, but for the moment he needed her. The very thought made him feel physically ill as he replied in the most placid tone he could muster.

"The rejects from my experiments are no less deadly than my own people, Jedore. They will fight, they will destroy. What more do you ask?"

"I **don't** _ **ask**_ , Okeer; I demand! And I **demand** that they follow orders! My soldiers are good, but in the end they're only human. I need an army of krogan, united and following my command!"

His rage boiled over at the thought of this weak, fleshy thing **controlling** his people, and he rounded on her in cold fury, pointing a scaly finger at her face. " **My** people will **never** follow **your** command. I suggest you learn that quickly, **human**. You are the inferior race here, in every way, and were it not for the business arrangement I brokered with your superiors, I would gladly watch you die in my grasp, choking for air, eyes wide with panic."

The human just smiled, leaning back and crossing her arms smugly over her chest. "Well, crying shame, then. Because you **did** make that deal, and you **will** do as I say, Okeer." She leaned forward again, putting her face inches from his own. "You don't have to like me, krogan. But you **do** have to obey me. Now…make me my super-soldiers, or I'll bring an entire squad in here and put bullets into every single precious piece of tech you love. I want my army, Okeer, and I want it n—"

The door to the lab slid open, admitting two humans and a quarian, weapons drawn. They immediately trained on Jedore, and Okeer grinned wickedly, knowing instantly these were the people the Illusive Man had promised. Jedore's pistol snapped out of its holster, and she trained it on Okeer's face.

"I…I have a hostage! Don't even step in this room, or he dies."

The human at the head of their group laughed as he crossed the threshold. "Clearly you've never been down there in the trenches with your men, or you'd know it takes way more than one bullet to take down a krogan, no matter where you put it."

"Don't worry, I've got a full cl—ah!" Okeer interrupted her sentence by spinning quickly in place, grabbing her pistol and the hand that held it in his one massive hand, and squeezing tightly. The metal of the cheaply-made weapon crunched under the massive pressure he exerted; as did the bones of the woman holding it. She screamed in agony, but it was cut short as Okeer's other hand shot forward, clasping her around the neck and lifting her up off the floor, bringing her face again inches away from his own. Her eyes widened as he tightened his grip, her face beginning to turn purple, and he chuckled at how easily broken these creatures were. Weak; in every way. Below his grip, her body thrashed, kicking at his midsection while her uninjured hand grasped in vain at his own that clutched her throat. Sputtering noises emitted from her mouth, and Okeer spoke softly as he watched her slip towards death.

"The irony of the situation is entertaining, don't you think? We were **just** talking about this kind of situation, but to be honest, it feels like I've been planning this for… **ages**." He slammed his fist closed, snapping her neck and crushing her trachea in one swift motion. Her body immediately went lifeless, and he dropped it to the floor, turning back to his rescuers. "The famous Commander Shepard. You have remarkable timing, and your reputation precedes you."

"So does yours, Okeer…" he led his team into the lab as they holstered their weapons, but his eyes lingered on the woman's corpse. He turned to the other human and spoke. "I assume that's her?"

"Yea, wouldn't feel bad if I were you, she did a lot worse than run her mouth all the time. Got what she had coming, if you ask me."

"Yes," Okeer replied, grinning at the grizzled mercenary whose name he recalled from their databases, "you would know, wouldn't you?"

"Did my fair share of business with them, so yea. I suppose I would." The team walked forward as he spoke, and Shepard nodded to Okeer, then turned to look at the tank he stood next to.

"Yes, my greatest accomplishment," Okeer said softly, gazing at the tank as he stood next to Shepard. "A perfect specimen, he carries the genophage, as we all do, but his genes are distilled from the greatest our race has ever forced upon the galaxy. He is the perfect krogan, and from him our race will be reborn." He turned to face Shepard. "This tank is the only thing of value on this entire planet. It comes with us."

The human nodded, turning and walking away as he tapped his earpiece to call in their shuttle. Okeer's eyes quickly darted to the other human, who was busy checking his weapon as he stood over the fallen Jedore, then to the quarian, who stood with her back to him as she examined a nearby research terminal. His hand darted to the control panel for the tank's interface. In an instant the vital readouts and monitor charts snapped away, revealing his message interface. He deleted the three messages there quickly, quietly, and breathed a small sigh of relief as he flipped back to the tank's statistics.

* * *

"I assume I don't need to tell you the apprehension I have against the personal item Okeer decided to bring aboard?" Miranda approached as he spoke, and John closed his eyes for the briefest moment before replying. She had caught him just as he had been about to call the lift to go up to Deck One. Okeer was aboard and secure in the cargo hold, Joker had received his instructions to make for Illium, and most importantly, Tali was waiting for him.

"No, Miranda. I'm well aware of the entire crew's apprehension to carrying around a krogan super-soldier just waiting to be let loose. But I didn't really have a choice, did I?"

"Perhaps not, but I still think we could have found a more…controlled…location for it; rather than just putting it right out in the open in the hold."

John laughed quietly. "Miranda, I'm not any more comfortable with the idea than you are, than anyone here is. But I really think if you try to fashion some sort of 'krogan prison' for Okeer or his tank, and then try to put them into that prison…you're going to encounter some difficulties that I don't think any of us want to deal with in the middle of a relay jump."

She shook her head softly. "I know, I know. I just…it bothers me, having two of them. To be honest it bothered me having one."

"I know how you feel, but whatever the deal the Illusive Man brokered with him, if it caused him to turn on the Suns, he needs us as much as we need him."

She nodded, reaching out to tap the lift key. "I'd better let you go then. I called down to Engineering to get the drive core readouts from Lia, who is apparently the only one on staff there at the moment…" she trailed off as she looked down at her datapad with feigned interest, and he smiled as the lift opened. He stepped inside, pressed the key for Deck One, and let the doors close.

"Goodnight, Ms. Lawson."

"Goodnight, Commander."

The lift began its ascent, and he leaned against the back wall of it, sighing heavily as he felt the weight of the day slip off his shoulders. Truth told, he had expected a much bigger confrontation with the krogan warlord, and his complete willingness to go with them as soon as Shepard had agreed to bring his super-soldier had been a more than a little surprising. Still, he thought as he shrugged his shoulders in the otherwise-empty lift, a win is a win. The doors slid open at Deck One, and he walked into his cabin. The blue light from the fish tank illuminated a darkened room, and as he entered he could make out the image of a sleeping quarian on his couch. Smiling to himself, he crossed over to his bed and pulled off one of the sheets, returning to the couch and draping it over her sleeping form. For a moment he considered sleeping in his bed, but it didn't feel right, and so he took to the other couch, lying back and closing his eyes.

* * *

_Is this channel encrypted?_

Three times over. Do you take me for a fool?

_I value security above all else. You would be a fool to think otherwise._

I'm aboard the Cerberus vessel, as per your instructions. Now hold up your end of the deal.

_Any one of my people could get aboard that vessel. That isn't what I instructed you to do. You have the power and the tools, use them to overtake the vessel, incapacitate Shepard, and deliver the ship to me._ _**Those** _ _were the terms of our arrangement; and only once they have been met will I give you the remainder of the STG files I have._

That wasn't the arrangement! You asked me to get aboard the ship, study its designs and crew, and report to you. We never discussed hostile takeover, that's suicide!

_Suicide? I did contact the warlord Okeer Rajars, did I not? The same warlord who, at the Battle of Morgrith defeated an entire enemy assassination squad of twenty by himself? I always have a plan, Okeer, and I don't recruit anyone for those plans for whose proficiencies I harbor any doubt. You_ _**can** _ _do as I require, and you_ _**will** _ _, or you will never receive the files you need to finish your masterpiece. Contact me when the ship is yours._

The transmission cut out, and Okeer squeezed his eyes shut in rage. Opening them after a moment, he looked up to his tank, his true life's work, placing a hand on it almost lovingly. Within rested a force of nature, the krogan answer to the genophage's sting. Nodding slowly, he turned back to his belongings, opening a large crate and removing his father's weapon, the weapon that had made warlord Okeer infamous, and began to ready it for use.

* * *

_Space. Void. Emptiness. The black rushes in to claim him. Suddenly he sees the Earth, not on the Earth, above it, floating, in space. The feeling reminds him of Alchera, and his stomach turns, but in an instant the vision is gone. As if watching on a vidscreen, his view snaps outward, now showing the Earth and its moon._

_Snap. The sun and all its planets._

_Snap. A local cluster of stars._

_Snap. The galaxy, spiraling out in cosmic beauty. His vision slowly rotates around the galaxy, and for a moment he feels a god, looking down upon all creation as would a deity. A soft buzzing resonates in his ears, but it is quiet, far away, unintelligible. His vision snaps again, this time closer, a star cluster across the galaxy from his own._

_Snap. A single, red giant star, with a host of planets orbiting it._

_Snap. A planet, surrounded in close proximity by others. They are red, brown, barren, but this planet is green, verdant._

_Snap. He sees within the atmosphere, a green field beneath a planet-wide translucent barrier. The idea makes his mind reel. The planet, shielded from its parent star by this impossibly complex planetary envelope, remains vivid despite its stellar position. He sees motion below, people…are they people?...moving along between tall, metallic skyscrapers. Metal material flows in architectural artwork as the buildings seem to…_ _**become** _ _one another as the eye follows them. The buzzing in his ears grows slightly louder, but it's still barely noticeable._

_Behind him, he feels the presence of someone. Male or female, human or not, he cannot tell. A hand touches his shoulder, but he doesn't think to look down at it, captivated by the planet beneath his gaze. Lips brush against his right ear, and a soft voice whispers to him…_

"Shepard…"

John's eyes snapped open at the voice in his earpiece. Touching it, he stood quickly into the dark of the cabin, his eyes slowly adjusting to the low-light. "Yes, I'm here." He moved toward the lift quietly, opening the door and stepping in as EDI continued.

" _I have been monitoring all communications aboard the Normandy since being installed. Warlord Okeer has contacted an unidentified source regarding a plot against Cerberus and the Normandy crew. It appears neither he nor his contact are aware of my existence or capabilities. I have transcribed the conversation, forwarding it to your omni-tool now."_

The screen winked into existence above his wrist, and as he read the transaction, his eyes widened. "Send a transmission to Zaeed, Jack, and Engineering. I want everyone on this lift sixty seconds after I get off. Then lock down the lift, and all access points to Deck Four. Whatever happens, I don't want him getting anywhere."

" _Understood, Shepard. Should I instruct Mr. Moreau to attempt a relay drop-out to allow us to vent the hold?"_

"No. That's risky at the best of times. And if we give that order, people panic. Panicking people make mistakes. Besides…the Illusive Man says we need him, so maybe I can talk him down." He clenched his jaw in frustration at the ridiculousness of what he had just suggested attempting. Even EDI seemed to understand the folly, as it was a full second and a half before she responded.

" _Understood, Shepard. Emergency messages have been sent. I have fabricated a potential pipeline leak as the reason for retreating to the upper decks. You will require this."_ A small emergency compartment opened in the side of the elevator, containing breather masks in the case of just such an emergency. Grabbing one, Shepard affixed it to his face as the lift came to a stop.

A moment later, the lift doors opened. Ken and Gabby stood ready, with Jack rounding the corner as Zaeed stumbled out of his room, clutching a bottle in one hand and his rifle in the other. Shepard stepped out, taking the rifle from the man and guiding him into the lift in one fluid motion, ignoring his mumbled protests. He handed the rifle to Ken with a confused look on his face.

"Lia?"

"Aye, she said a pipeline leak didn't matter to her, what with her suit and all; said she'd stay and help you find it, Commander."

Inside, his mind reeled at the additional liability this posed, but he maintained his composure, nodding to Ken and letting the doors closed. Looking down into the cargo bay, he saw the krogan tank, but no sign of Okeer. Swearing to himself, he rushed around the corner, and into Engineering, his heart pounding as he moved. Lia stood up from where she had been crouched underneath a console as he entered.

"Captain," she began, "I've been looking all around the pipeline superstructure, but can't find any leaks…I'm sure with the two of us, we can find it easier, though."

In any other situation, he would have laughed, but he continued moving forward, motioning for her to follow him, towards the core chamber. As they both entered, he spun on his heel, leaning close to her aural inputs and whispering.

"Lia, I need you to stay here. The krogan we brought aboard may be up to something, and I'm about to confront him. Take this," he handed her his heavy pistol, which she accepted hesitantly, "and if these doors open for a krogan, you take him down, understood?"

"I ah…um…y-yes, I understand, Captain."

He nodded sharply to her, then walked out of the core chamber, allowing the doors to close behind him. "EDI, lock down the core chamber as well, just for extra protection."

" _Core chamber locked, Shepard. Life-form tracking indicates Okeer is still in the cargo bay. He is currently attempting to access Deck Four via a maintenance passage that I have locked down."_

"Any chance of him breaking through?" He rushed for the passage she indicated on his omni-tool, taking a ladder down one deck as she replied.

" _Electronically, it would take him approximately 417.68 standard years to compromise every possible encryption code I have available for use."_

"Right, but krogan aren't exactly known for their technical know-how. What if he tried to break the door down?"

" _With an estimated average physical strength take from a wide-array sample of krogan subjects, it would take him approximately eight strikes."_

"Yea, that's more what I was afraid of."

John's feet hit the deck in a red emergency-lighting illuminated section of Deck Five. Twenty feet to his right, the access hatch to the cargo bay began to resonate with the steady _thud_ of Okeer slamming on it from the other side. Crossing to the other side of the door, John realized suddenly the inferior position in which he stood. Okeer was probably armored, if not armed. John stood in regulation off-duty clothes, having given his only weapon to Lia. Surprise was his only weapon, and he needed to use it well.

The door burst open, and John leaped forward into the clearly-surprised Okeer, bowling the both of them over. Seeing the krogan's weapon loose in his hand, John grabbed it with both hands, rolling off of the krogan as he did so. His momentum made him lose his grip on the shotgun, though, and it skidded across the deck of the cargo hold, coming to a rest against the side of the Kodiak. Okeer roared, standing and charging John. Okeer's shoulder caught him in the stomach, and he wrapped his arms around the krogan's neck as he dug his heels in, countering his charge. His cybernetics strained, and Okeer stood quickly, throwing John over his shoulder to land with a winding _thud_ against the deck. John lay for a moment in pure agony, his muscles on fire, his lungs empty. Okeer crossed to his prone form, raising a foot to crush his neck.

"Hmph. I had expected more from the Hero of the Citadel." The foot came down and John rolled to the side, coming to his feet in a rush and delivering a huge hook to Okeer's face. The implants in his muscles heightened the blow, and a satisfying _crunch_ of broken bone resonated as a result. Blood began to trickle from Okeers nose as the krogan dropped into a melee stance and laughed. " **That's** better!"

Punches flew back and forth, Okeer's landing with devastating force that John's augmented body barely managed to maintain; strikes that would cripple or outright kill a normal human being. He delivered his own as well, their blow-trading fight bringing them closer to the center of the cargo hold. Okeer closed rapidly, reaching out for John with a claw that reminded him of the way he'd seen Jedore die. Diving forward, he rolled under the krogan's outstretched arm, and came up with a devastating blow to the mid-turn Okeer. The hit set the krogan off-balance, and he crashed into the side of the shuttle.

Seeing the opportunity, John closed with him, reaching out for Okeer's own weapon. The krogan grabbed his hand mid-flight, and clamped down on John's neck with the other hand, lifting him up off the ground. Okeer's hand tried to close on John's neck, with visible effort, and air began to trickle to his brain thinner and thinner. Darkness closed around the edges of his vision, and he looked from the out-of-reach weapon to the roof of the Kodiak, just over Okeer's shoulder. He let his searching hand go limp, and Okeer promptly released it to add a second hand to his neck. Gasping for breath, John shot his hand forward over the krogan's shoulder, grabbing the etching torch he and Ken had used earlier and igniting it as he brought it back.

Slamming the brand forward, John caught Okeer in the eye, eliciting a roar of pain from the krogan, who dropped him to clutch at the wound. Scrambling to his feet as he sputtered and gasped for air, John refused to relent, racing forward and stabbing the torch into Okeer's other eye. Reeling from the redoubled pain, the krogan stumbled backwards, away from John and the Kodiak, and slammed into the tank that held his super-soldier. Off-balance again, Okeer fell to his knees in front of the tank, which began to leak from the series of cracks his heavy armor had put into its glass face. Life-sustaining liquid flowed from the tank to drip over the prone form of Okeer as he swung weakly and blindly in front of him. John reached down, picking up Okeer's own weapon before crossing over to where the krogan knelt flailing.

"You've ruined me! My work, I can feel the tank leaking…I can hear the sensors warning of critical failure. Everything I am, you have taken from me! Kill me if you will, Shepard, but don't let this soldier, this future for my people, die in vain. He must live on, this one perfect krogan, this grunt, my legacy…"

Wordlessly, John leveled Okeer's shotgun to his head and fired six times, emptying the gigantic clip the weapon held. The body tumbled forward, the pulpy mass that had once been Okeer's head bleeding profusely over the cargo bay as John looked up to the tank, rubbing his neck with his hand as EDI's voice came over the ship-wide.

" _Threat neutralized, all lockdowns have been lifted."_

The lift doors opened at once, and his crew spilled out of it, rushing forward with weapons drawn. Miranda and Garrus rushed to train their weapons on the tank, while Tali ran to him, examining his neck with a careful hand. Mordin moved toward the tanks control panels, whose sirens were laboriously chiming an all-systems failure. He spoke quickly.

"Shepard! Vital signs for this krogan falling rapidly, mass loss of sustaining fluid hastening catatonic state! Need directive!"

John looked through the cracked glass at the face of the krogan inside the tank, hearing Okeer's final plea in his head, remembering the krogan's outrage he had read in his orders from his unknown superior. Miranda spoke up.

"You're not honestly thinking of releasing it?" He met her gaze with his own bruised, bleeding face, and she looked away, her cheeks coloring as Mordin spoke up again.

"Estimated time to comatose state, twenty-six seconds. Action required, Shepard!"

"He's either an asset to the team," John began, his voice croaking a bit after the trauma his neck had endured, "or a time bomb we're about to light the fuse on. Either way, let's just deal with it now. Weapons live, if he makes a move, we take him down, and that's the end of it. But only on my order," he finished, looking around at those assembled. They all nodded, Tali and Mordin unholstering their pistols to join the others. Mordin pressed the key indicated to him by the alarms, and they immediately fell silent as the glass door opened, and the krogan inside fell to his hands and knees next to Okeer's corpse, the rest of the liquid spilling out onto the deck with him. After a moment, his eyes opened, and he groaned, a low roar, as he gathered his bearings, standing to his full height as he took in his surroundings.

"Okeer…" his voice was a low rumble as his gaze came to rest on the warlord's body, then flicked to Shepard and the weapon he held. "You are my father's killer?"

John nodded as he looked the krogan in the face. "I am. Okeer tried to mutiny aboard my ship. He would have killed my crew and taken me captive. I decided to kill him first." The krogan held his gaze before sweeping it across the others assembled. Eventually, it came back to rest on Okeer.

"Then he was weaker than I thought." His eyes met Shepard's again. "The tank tells me much about humans. You're weak, fleshy, less than a finger deep to sever your spine." He turned to the others again. "Turians, have to work the blade to get under their armor, salarians…soft. Quarians…not so much…" Turning back to Shepard, he continued. "But you killed Okeer. The tank says much of him, glory and strength, and the hatred of the other clans. Regardless, he was strong. Joining his clan would weaken me."

Silence fell, and John looked over to Miranda, who shrugged the slightest amount. Returning his gaze to the soldier, Shepard stepped forward, turning Okeer's shotgun around in his hands and offering it to the krogan. Around him, he could sense the rest of the crew tense up. "Then join me and my crew. Our enemies threaten galaxies and plan mass extinctions of entire races. Just like Okeer…I plan to kill them first." The krogan looked down at the weapon, reaching forward and slowly taking it, snapping it in place on his back. He looked down at Okeer once more before speaking again, directly into Shepard's face.

"Then I will follow you until I find my own clan. And one day…I will be honored to pit them in battle against you."


	20. Eyes in the Tempest

***Author's Note***  
With this chapter, we've officially surpassed _The Darkest Night_  
in word length! And we're only…just under halfway done, I'd say?  
I've completely given up trying to put a time frame on the piece,  
but I've just registered for my three summer classes, two basic,  
requirement-fulfilling slots, and an Android Programming class,  
all of which are online-only. Thus, I see the pace on this piece picking  
back up come the second or so week of May, as I'll have more time  
over the summer to work on it.

Thanks for reading/commenting/PMing! Enjoy!

* * *

**Eyes in the Tempest**

He stumbled through the crowd, quickly recovering so as not to draw suspicious glances. With the position he was in, suspicious glances could be the death of him. The extranet terminal was just around the corner, where he knew it would be, and he looked around to make sure he was alone before opening his omni-tool. The information there was just as he had left it months ago when he'd first signed on with the Suns, back when he'd been a stupid boy. It was strange how quickly a boy became a man when lives were on the line.

He typed the code into the terminal, a hailing frequency, decryption key, and authorization credentials. He only had one shot at this, and he shuddered slightly at the mere thought of getting it wrong. A helmeted head appeared on-screen, immediately speaking.

" _This is a heavily encrypted channel, you're breaking every regulation by using it."_

"I-I understand, sir. But our operations here have just been hit. J-Jedore's dead, and the krogan is gone, sir."

" _Gone?"_ a voice called from off-screen. _"What the fuck does he mean 'gone'? Where do you lose a krogan?"_

The man swallowed hard before continuing. "I-It was a strike team, sir. Mercenaries, or soldiers, I'm not sure. Either way, that's not why I called."

The batarian on-screen was shoved to the side, a man's face appearing in its place. His darkened skin only intensified the barely-contained snarl that scoured his face as he spoke. _"Well then, maybe you'd like to tell us why you decided to bother me?"_

"T-There was a man with the squad, sir. He looked older, but he moved just as fast. They carved through our teams like nothing you've ever seen…He…he had a fake eye, and he told me to give you a message."

" _I've given a lot of men fake eyes in my time, worm, just give me the message already"_

"He said to tell you," he paused, remembering what the man had said after slamming him against the wall so he'd remember it, "that you made the biggest mistake of your goddamn life betraying him, and that he's coming for you. And…and that this time you'll need a lot more than six men to keep him down. H-his words, sir."

On the screen, he could almost see his once-snarling commander shrink at the words. It was gone in an instant though, replaced with the cruel, vicious countenance once more. _"Fine. Gather whoever is left and get to the next shuttle, I want you all here with the rest of our main forces."_

"Not happening," he replied immediately, and took a small amount of satisfaction in the abrupt surprise on the other man's face. Emboldened, he continued. "I saw what those three did; I won't last ten seconds against them, and neither will any of your men. I don't care if I'm running for the rest of my life, it's better than being there with you; because if he does come for you, if he brings his friends…there won't be a soul left alive there, I guarantee you."

" _You get your ASS on that sh—"_ The voice snapped off as he severed the communication. His job done, he looked around furtively once more. Content that no one was paying him any mind, he pulled his average civilian coat tighter around himself, stepping into the crowd, and leaving commander Santiago to whatever fate came for him.

* * *

His fist slammed down onto the table with such force that it seemed the whole room shook. At the end of the surface, a stack of datapads tumbled haphazardly to the floor in a hail of clattering sounds, easily drowned out by the roar he unleashed. In the middle of the table, right before him, his transmitter began to pulse a faint red glow, and in an instant his rage was snuffed out like a candle, replaced instead with a cold pit in his stomach, pure terror as he collected himself and accepted the transmission. He had no time to speak, as the sender began immediately

" _ **Your constant failure makes us question our arrangement."**_

"N-No. That won't be necessary," the Shadow Broker replied, his normally malevolent demeanor shattered by the voice of this creature he knew was infinitely more evil. "I have other people I can put on the mission. I can get you Shepard."

" _ **Every day his strength grows. Soon it will be impossible for you or anyone in your employ to reach him. He surrounds himself with deadly and loyal allies, while you stumble to control your own."**_

"I can change that. I just need time."

" _ **If you fail again, we will not contact you. You will die with the others in blood and fire."**_

The transmission cut out, and he turned his chair away from the communicator, standing and crossing the room to look out a viewport into the tempestuous twilight skies of Hagalaz. Electricity arced through the atmosphere, captured and contained in power cells by his vessel's lightning rod superstructures as the ship constantly followed the dusk line on the surface below. He needed to find Shepard, and there was no room for failure.

Returning to his wall of terminals, he forwarded Shepard's likeness and information to all active agents, instructing them to contact him the minute he was seen. After it was done, he walked back to the window, staring out into the stormy skies as his search began anew.

* * *

" _R-Rest assured, I'm working on a fix. Give me a couple days and I'll be back in their systems again. I'll be mining out information as fast as before and n-no one will be the wiser!"_

Kade Hahn let a laugh slip out from between his lips as the anxious debtor on the other end of the call waited for a response. The man was probably pissing himself with fear; a reaction Kade was proud to be able to instill in people. As one of the top agents for the Shadow Broker on Omega, he commanded a certain amount of respect from his underlings. Ironically, they didn't know who their boss worked for, only that he knew powerful people in all the right places, and to get on his bad side was a fast track to the grave.

"You'd better hope so, Gerin. For your sake, more than mine." As he spoke, he walked down a dingy narrow hallway; on Omega even the best living spaces usually still looked like shit. "Your little delay cost me a decent amount of money. Now because you've been so damn dutiful in the past, I'm willing to let it slide, if you can be back up and running in two days' time. If not, well…" he trailed off as he approached the door to his place, placing his palm to the scanner and waiting as much for the opening of the door as for Gerin's reply.

" _A-Absolutely, Hahn. I understand completely. I'll let you know the second I'm back up!"_

"You do that." With a tap, he severed the connection transmitting to his earpiece through his omni-tool, and stepped into his darkened apartment with a soft chuckle. She always liked it dark, he remembered with an inward smile. He had at first guessed that it was an asari thing, though what specific 'asari thing' would fuel that preference he couldn't be bothered to guess at. Still, when she'd told him…and showed him, he remembered with a deeper inward smile…why she liked it dark in the apartment they secretly shared, he'd been more than willing to comply.

With a quiet sigh of disappointment, he walked across the darkened living room, entering the dining area and reaching for the wall panel. She wouldn't be back for another few days; out on some mission he had given her himself. The Broker had said only the best would do, and so he'd sent his best. Reluctantly, but he'd sent her nonetheless. If people thought Kade Hahn was the wrong man to get on the bad side of…they wouldn't survive ten minutes working for the Broker.

The lights quickly illuminated the room at his touch on the sensor panel, and as he draped his coat over a nearby chair, he smiled as his eyes glanced across the table and the small box that had been set upon it for him. She'd been by after all. He was a hard man, and so he'd never admit it to anyone, but he loved her. For what the love of a ruthless killer could be worth, he loved her. A small smile spread across his face, and he rounded to the far side of the table to remove the lid from the box. Its contents made his smile disappear in an instant, replaced with an open mouth that tried to scream but couldn't fathom the sounds. Inside the box lay a soft blue hand he very much recognized, the fingers all snapped and bent at stomach-turning angles. Reflexively, he shoved the box away, backing away from the table and into the wall behind him. He stood against it, heart racing, blood pumping, before a soft, sharp voice spoke calmly from the still-darkened living area.

"She was resilient, I'll give her that. I wonder if you'll last as long."

Kade spun on his heel, slamming his hand against the wall and triggering the lights to flash on immediately. He sat across the room from Kade in a high-backed chair, elbows on the armrests and fingers interlaced in front of his masked face. In an instant Kade dropped to the ground, reaching under the chair just next to him for the pistol he kept concealed under it. The space was bare.

"Thinking I wouldn't check…that's almost insulting…" the man continued in his slightly-amused tone. Kade stood, circling around the room while keeping an eye on the still-seated man, and keeping furniture between them as well. He reached a concealed recess in the wall, tapping a small button that would alert his security forces . The man simply watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"I'm not sure which would discourage you more: The fact that it's been overridden, or that they're all dead anyway." He shrugged slightly, and Kade fumed, remembering the hand in the box, the things this…monster…had done to her. Roaring, he flipped the chair he had stood behind towards the man, who seemed to almost lazily dive clean away from the assault, rushing to Kade in a mere moment to engage. Kade swung at the man's face, but he ducked below, delivering a quick slam to Kade's midsection that easily dropped him to his knees winded. Swinging around behind him, the man pulled both of his arms back and above his head before shoving them downward with brutal force. Kade could hear the sickening _pop_ of his joints loosening, and he screamed out in primal agony.

The man then dropped his arms and walked slowly back around his incapacitated foe, getting down on one knee to look Kade in the face. Tears of pain rolled down Kade's face, and he could barely think straight but for all the fire in his arms. When the man spoke, he was still all calm, as if nothing had just transpired.

"Tell me who you get your orders from."

For all the pain, Kade still managed a short, bursted laugh. "I tell you that, I'm a dead man."

"The alternative is the same, so it seems you're a dead man either way. This way, you live longer. Tell me what I want to know."

"Or what? You'll torture me like you did her? Go to hell, you monster. I don't know who you work for, but you picked the wrong guy to fuck with today. Waste your time killing me slowly; you won't get a goddamn word from me." He hung his head, clearly finished with the conversation. The man stood with an exasperated sigh, grabbing Kade by the back of his collar and dragging him over to kneel in front of his large viewport that looked out over the rest of this level of Omega. Activating his omni-tool, he pressed the open palm of the arm it sat on flat against the window. A second later, a high-frequency charge lanced out from the edges of the device, shattering his window. The pieces flew outward into the skies of Omega, a fast wind whipping through the gaping hole and around the pair of them. The man moved around to stand behind Kade before speaking.

"I'll only say this because you're one of us: Last chance."

"Fuck you."

The man unceremoniously grabbed Kade's left arm and yanked it upwards, causing him to cry out again in pain, and pulled down his sleeve. He detached the thin armband that held Kade's omni-tool, slipping it off of his arm before shoving him out into the open space. The cold air shocked Kade's senses as he tumbled into the abyss, screaming out as the hard streets below rushed up to claim him.

* * *

The medi-gel stung John's face as Dr. Chakwas applied it to his many open wounds, but like so many other things, he merely pushed it out of his mind, refusing to acknowledge it. Having been so focused on securing the ship, he hadn't paid much attention to the gravity of his injuries during the fight with Okeer. After securing the krogan's allegiance, he'd walked back to the lift and sent it towards Deck One. When he had slumped back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, however, the others had half-accompanied, half-dragged him to the med bay, where he now sat under the careful eye of his ship's medic. That eye, as it turned out, was joined with a disapproving frown as she continued treating the many cuts and gashes he'd sustained.

"Sometimes, Commander, I think you go looking for trouble just to give me something to do around here." Her voice held a tone of irritation, but he knew having to patch him up wasn't what she was upset about.

"I did mention the part where there was a bloodthirsty krogan warlord trying to break out of the cargo bay and kill us all, right?"

"Yes, I recall that. I also recall hearing the part where you locked down all decks and fought him yourself without a weapon, like an idiot." She pulled her face back to appraise her work. "Sir," she added as she turned away.

He shook his head slightly, leaning back against the bulkhead and closing his eyes. After a moment, the soft _hiss_ of the door opening caused him to re-open them and look up to see Lia entering the med bay, nodding to Chakwas as she crossed to him. She held his heavy pistol out to him grip-first as she spoke.

"Captain, I just wanted to return this. Things seemed to return to normal after the incident, so I waited until my shift in Engineering was over. I was just on my way up to the bridge."

He nodded in understanding as he took the weapon from her and placed it on the small metal stand beside the gurney he sat on. Leaning forward, he stepped off of it and stood in front of her before speaking.

"About that, Lia. I'm sorry if I scared you, locking you in the core room and all. I just needed to think fast, what with ev—"

"No, really, it's alright," she interrupted, holding up a hand to stop his apology. "I'll admit I wasn't looking forward to actually having to deal with a krogan if he did come barreling through the door, but at the same time…it was kind of fun, having some excitement aboard the ship."

A small laugh escaped him, and his hand rubbed the back of his neck absently as he replied. "Fun, huh? I guess I wasn't thinking of it that way. But hey," he finished, turning to Chakwas who was now watching their exchange, " **someone** aboard was having fun." She sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned back around to her datapads. When his gaze fell back upon her, Lia nodded before turning to leave the med bay. As the doors closed behind her, John let out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding, causing the doctor to turn around once more.

"Everything alright?"

"I shouldn't have brought her aboard."

"Who, Lia? Commander, I don't think you had a choice; not really. You'd have had to get a new pilot, I think."

Shepard nodded absently. "Sure, I get that. But her excitement…she's enthusiastic to be here on her Pilgrimage, her Pilgrimage that's about to take her on a suicide mission. How is that going to help her, or the Fleet? How fair is it for me to bring her on this Normandy when there's a more than decent chance it will end up like the last one?"

Chakwas leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and regarding him with a concerned look about her. "I think that's a decision she makes for herself, John. She wants to stay close to Jeff, and the longer she's aboard, the more she's realizing that the war that's coming is about more than just the Fleet; it's about the entire galaxy. That's a perspective she can't do anything but benefit from having experienced."

"I agree, but that won't benefit anyone if they die somewhere beyond the Omega 4 relay."

"Do you really think that's going to happen? That there isn't any chance you'll get this done?"

"Of course I believe in us, in the team. But it's not going to be pretty. I feel like we're going to lose people, and a young quarian girl just off on her Pilgrimage would be a name right at the top of that list."

"Perhaps," she said, standing and crossing to the other side of the bay to check a different chart. "But I seem to recall the original Normandy taking on a young quarian girl just off on her Pilgrimage, and that seemed to turn out alright. More than, if I may say."

John shook his head as he replied. "Tali's different."

"Is she really?" Chakwas put down the file, giving him her full attention as she continued. "Lia would have received the same combat training Tali did, the same information before being sent out. The real difference between Tali'Zorah and any other quarian that goes out on Pilgrimage, John, is that she found you." She allowed her sentence to hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "You brought her aboard with a krogan warrior, a rogue turian C-Sec officer, two human soldiers and an asari biotic powerhouse. Then you constantly took her into the field with you; do you really think she didn't pick up anything from that?" John nodded silently, and she walked over to stand in front of him, poking a finger into his chest as she spoke.

" **You** are the reason that we see that hardness about Tali. She learned from you, and grew, and now we see her as strong enough to handle all this. You can't change Lia being on this ship; the only thing you can do is prepare her for what's to come as best you can, and hope she can pull through. The rest is up to her."

John nodded slowly as he regarded her. Seeing that he understood her, she stepped away, back over to the datapads, as he spoke. "You're aware we already have a ship psychiatrist, right?" The remark earned a small laugh from her, and she replied without looking up from her work.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that, John. But I have history with you, and lots of it; and while I wouldn't say it to her face," she glanced up to him, "I'm much better than she is when it comes to you. It's just a fact of experience."

He smiled, clapping a hand on her shoulder as he walked past her and out the door of the med bay. He'd need to contact the Illusive Man, let him know about Okeer. Miranda had already said she would send him a report, but he wanted to talk to the man himself, about Okeer and their next targets. Stopping in front of the elevator, he shrugged. They were still awhile out from Illium, and the Illusive Man could wait. Taking the elevator down to Deck Four, he rolled his neck around, cracking out the tension in it before the doors slid open. As he rounded the corner and approached Engineering, he put on his best winning smile, only to have it slip off of his face as the door slid open.

Tali stood alone in Engineering, at her console but speaking with someone on her omni-tool. Feeling like he was intruding, John stepped back to exit the bay, but stopped when the second voice emitted from her omni-tool. It was male, but accented like Tali's. Sharp and direct, it spoke with authority. His suspicions aroused, John unconsciously turned back to face her, listening as their conversation continued.

"No, I don't. And even if I did, what does it matter? I've been allowed to serve on the Normandy until I feel the mission is complete. It's my call to make."

" _Yes, I'm aware of that. Still, you must realize that your place is here, with your people, helping us take back our home."_

"I understand the importance of taking back what is ours, what belonged to our ancestors, father. But if the Reapers aren't stopped, it won't matter who holds our home world, we will all be destroyed. That's why my place for now is here, on the Normandy."

" _On the Normandy, or with Shepard?"_

"They're one and the same. He's the captain of this ship."

" _I'm well aware of that, Tali. I'm also well aware of the state you were in when you came back from your Pilgrimage."_

"Yes, I'd lost the ship I'd called home while on Pilgrimage, Shepard was dead, as were all the people I served with in Engineering. It was traumatic."

" _Yes, I'm sure it was."_

Tali's posture stiffened at the curt reply, and her tone deepened as she replied. "What exactly are you implying?"

" _I imply nothing, Tali. I simply remind you that you have a duty to your people, in more than just this. As does Shepard, for his own kind."_ A short pause hung in the air, and John shifted uncomfortably, very nearly able to _feel_ the anger radiating from the quarian in front of him as she replied quietly.

"Why now? For years, you didn't care one bit what I did, what happened to me, even what I accomplished slipped completely past your notice. You've buried yourself in research, practically leaving me to be raised by Shala'Raan and the few friends I had."

" _Do not mistake absence for indifference, Ta—"_ she cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it! You're right, I do have a duty to my people: protecting them from a threat thousands of times greater than the geth could ever be. So if you would like to pass along any new information that would help in that duty, _admiral_ ," she spat the title as she seethed, "then by all means forward it along. But you cannot, and will not, make my decisions for me. You lost that privilege the day I came back from Pilgrimage."

" _Tali, you're leaving me with little recourse. As an admiral of the Fleet, I hereby rescind your granted leave of absence and order you to immediately return to us. You_ _ **will**_ _be back aboard the Neema in one standard week, or there will be consequences."_

A brief moment of pure, thick tension almost solidified the air John breathed. He wanted to step forward, to tell the quarian off, to defend Tali's decisions, but he knew if their positions were reversed, she'd understand it was a battle he needed to fight for himself. For all the times they'd talked about her father, the absolute best thing she'd ever had to say about him was that he was 'dedicated to the Fleet.' That left a lot of room for interpretation, but being here, in this moment, John felt like he was only beginning to understand the deep chasm that stood between this father and daughter. After what felt like an eternity, the voice spoke again.

" _Do you understand, Tali'Zorah vas Neema?"_

She turned around where she stood, and John's eyes widened as she met them with her own. How long she'd known he was standing there, he could only guess, but those white, almond-shaped lights beneath her visor almost brimmed with pain. He nodded to her, just once, a single motion to impart to her that he would stand by her whatever she chose to do. When she spoke, it was with finality, cold and harsh.

"I won't be returning until my mission here is complete, admiral. If you or any of the others have a problem with that…you can go to hell." The voice began to yell something in protest, but Tali tapped a few small keys and the link cut out.

"I, ah…I didn't mean to…" he trailed off as he stood in the doorway, but she shook her head.

"I heard you come in. If I cared whether or not you heard, I'd have said so."

"Still," he said softly as he approached her. "I'm sorry."

"He thinks he can just control everyone when he wants, and then ignore them when it's convenient," she spoke harshly as she turned away from him, back to her console. "We could have just wiped out every Reaper in existence and he'd be busy asking me when I'll be back to the Neema's Engineering Bay while the rest of the damned galaxy would be cheering our names." She typed in a query to the drive core's interface, slamming down on the Run key when she finished. "He's infuriating!"

John stepped up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, and she spun at his touch, balling up a fist and punching him in his chest. The blow surprised him, and he stepped back, clutching at the sore spot with incredulity as she spoke.

"And **you**! What the hell did you think you were doing? Locking down all the decks, going in to fight a krogan without **any** weapons, or armor? Locking **me** in Deck One? Are you **trying** to die again?" While her words were not yelled, they were still furious, and he met her fiery gaze with his own apologetic one.

"I didn't want to endanger anyone else. I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't think," she cut in. "You have an entire ship full of friends and allies, people who would fight and die at your side, did you recruit them all just to have an audience to your vicious beating?"

"Tali, no, I didn't. I thought if I could get in first and control the situation…" he trailed off, seeing rage mixing with sorrow in the way she held herself, her posture and her words.

"You can't **control** a raging krogan! You can't just…you can't…" she was losing steam, but still upset, and he stepped forward, embracing her tightly. She punched his back weakly once, twice, and then gave up, returning his embrace. He could feel her shaking in his grip, and he whispered into her aural pickups as he held her tightly.

"I'm sorry. It was stupid, I know. I just wanted to keep everyone else safe."

"And if you had died in there, with the rest of us locked away on other decks," she began calmly, her head resting on his shoulder, "would we have been any safer?"

"No, I suppose not."

She pushed away from him, holding him at arm's length to look him in the eye. "None of us are afraid to fight with you, that's why we're here. Your job is to keep us focused, lead us the way no one else can. Our job is to protect you, and each other. One doesn't work without the other."

He nodded, and she let her hands drop, falling into his own, and he squeezed them tightly as they stood together. "Look," he began nervously, "about your father…I—"

"I meant it," she interrupted again. "Every word. My place is here with you, fighting the Reapers and protecting all the people who refuse to believe us." He smiled, and she stepped closer to him. "It's my decision to make, and even if we weren't fighting the Collectors or the Reapers, even if Saren and Sovereign had been the end of it all, I would still be here."

"I never meant to ask your people to make that sacrifice. Your father…he seems to believe I'm manipulating you."

"He can believe whatever he wants, but it's not the quarians sacrificing something, it's me making a decision. I will do my duty to the Fleet, but this is my life, and I want to live it like this."

He let out a small laugh, and she tilted her head in confusion before he spoke. "I really have been a terrible influence on you. An independent streak, battle prowess, decisiveness, and telling people to go to hell…"

"All perfectly good skills to have," she added. "Well, except for the last one, that was just kind of fun. I can see why you do it so often."

He laughed, pulling her close and wrapping her in an even tighter embrace that before. She returned the gesture as EDI's voice filtered into the bay.

" _Shepard, Operative Lawson wishes to inform you that she has transmitted an incident report to the Illusive Man, but recommends you speak with him as soon as possible."_

He stepped away from Tali, replying to the air. "I'll head up there right away." He gave her hand a final squeeze before turning and leaving the bay, stepping into the elevator and sending it upwards.

* * *

_He crests the hill, immediately dropping and sliding down the other side. Small rocks and debris create a tiny avalanche around his descending form, but before he hits the bottom, he's up and running again, tearing off toward the enemy encampment. The intel he was given is good, and through his rifle's scope he sees no more than five turians, milling about and aimlessly standing guard. As he gets closer, he drops down, crawling forward slowly, meticulously, so as not to be noticed. On the outskirts of the camp he lies in wait._

_Dusk is falling, and yet behind him the sounds of battle rage on. His people are back there, fighting and dying to give him the time and distraction he needs. All he needs now is his partner to come through…He hears it, a bird call, faint on the wind, but from the other side of the camp. The turians hear it too, all five of them turning towards the strange noise. He takes his opportunity._

_Springing from his prone position with a speed only military training can give, he rushes forward. There are no screams, no battle cries from this warrior, only the steady_ thump _of the rifle's stock against his shoulder as he takes down one, two, three turians in a matter of seconds. The other two turn fast enough, and he dives to the side, seeing the head of the first one explode into a fine red mist before his cover obstructs his vision._

_He is not alone for long. The last turian rushes forward, diving over his cover and coming up behind him. Spinning in his crouched form, he springs up, trying to catch the alien with a rising punch. His enemy steps back, however, and he pulls the knife from its sheath on his leg. The turian produces a similar weapon, with a wicked curved blade, and the two engage, trading blows and cuts. Their dance seems to take hours, but in a split second he ducks under a slash, coming up with one of his own, catching the turian across the throat._

_Blood rushes forward as the alien stumbles back, clutching in vain at the wound. A small_ pop _is heard from far away, and before he can register its source in his mind, the turian is on the ground, still and bleeding._

_He turns and jogs back toward the camp, checking his wounds, satisfied that they are light. At the largest tent he stops, checking his weapon and replacing his knife before brushing aside the flap and stepping inside, raising his pistol to train it on the tent's only occupant, a turian woman in a flowing robe. She doesn't turn to him, but speaks instead in hushed tones._

" _You have come to take their gift." He says nothing, simply keeps his pistol leveled at her, and she continues. "I will not try to stop you. All is as it is meant to be." She paused again, and though confusion races through his mind, he remains silent. "I cannot give it to you," she begins, slowly standing and turning to face him. "You must take it, as you have co—" her words stop abruptly as he pulls the trigger, putting two rounds into her skull. She crumples to the floor, and he is shocked at his sudden desire to see her die._

_It was the eyes, he tells himself. It was the eyes._

* * *

"Twelve more since last week, sir." Kashon's quiet voice reached his ears as the Illusive Man read through the reports on the datapad in front of him. "At this rate, our forces will be more than ready before the projected due date."

"Excellent work, Kashon," he said absentmindedly, handing the datapad back to the man, who nodded and left the room. He fired up another cigarette, staring into the rolling orange surface of the star which his station orbited. Ascendency was going according to plan, better than to hear Kashon speak of it, but there was a nagging thought at the back of his mind regarding it. Something he couldn't quite place his finger on. As he tried to work out the thought, his message terminal began to chime, and he accepted the QE relay. Kai Leng stood waiting, and began speaking as soon as the connection was established.

" _His people are very thorough with security, but not thorough enough. The people being sent to stop me are working for the Shadow Broker. Whether he's your Lazarus Station saboteur, or simply being hired for protection, he's the next step in the trail."_

"I understand," he replied, taking another drag on his cigarette. "I'll put my best people on trying to find him, though it won't be an easy task. Until then, I want you to go dark. Lose his interest while I try to get you coordinates. Then we'll find out what he knows."

" _Understood."_ The connection severed, and he leaned back in his chair, contemplating the new information. Having the Shadow Broker as an enemy would make things quite a bit more difficult, but not impossible. He was about to send a QE request to the Normandy when the light flashed again, and he accepted the call. Shepard stood, looking a bit worse for wear.

"Shepard," he began, "I was about to contact you myself, I've just gotten some interesting information."

" _Yea, Miranda said she filed some kind of report with you."_

He looked over to his message terminal, where one unread message sat waiting for his attention, and then back to Shepard. "Yes, I've just received it, but haven't looked at it yet. What happened?"

" _EDI intercepted a conversation between Okeer and another party. It seemed like he was in some sort of arrangement with them to get aboard the Normandy, incapacitate it, and take me captive. I had to put Okeer down, but I released the tank-bred krogan he brought with him, and we seem to have reached a deal with him. I still have no idea who Okeer's contact was, though. "_

"I think I may be able to answer that for you, Shepard," he replied, putting out his cigarette in the ash tray beside him. "One of my agents investigating the attack on Lazarus Station just informed me that the Shadow Broker is acting against us. We don't know if he's behind the attack or just protecting those who are, but regardless, he's hostile to us, and for some reason wants you."

" _Could he be working with the Collectors?"_

"Unlikely. The Collectors usually only deal with small mercenary groups, able to attack, get what they want, and disperse afterward. They wouldn't approach someone like the Shadow Broker with any kind of regularity."

" _Then what's he after?"_

"I'm not sure, but I'm working on finding out. In the meantime, I'd suggest keeping an eye out for anyone working with the Broker. To that end, your contact on Illium should be of great assistance."

" _How so?"_

"She's an enemy of the Broker's, and an old friend of yours."

" _I suppose you can't have too many friends with the Reapers, Collectors, and Shadow Broker after you. I'll contact you when I have something."_

The relay cut out, and he sat back in his chair, watching the liquid inside his glass swirl around as he rotated the glass in his hand. A soft buzzing began to build in the back of his head and creep forward intensifying as it moved, until soon the entire room sounded filled with static. Gripping the armrest of his chair tightly, he tried to will his eyes to close, but they wouldn't. Staring straight out into the heart of the giant star, he fought the wave of pain that followed.

It felt as if electricity poured through every vein in his body, but his body did not wrack with shock. It felt as if molten lava were poured over his head as the oxygen left him, but his skin did not burn. Thoughts and emotions not his own streamed through his mind like a raging river, and even as he pushed back with his consciousness, the other presence in his mind scoffed at him. With great effort, he mentally shoved the pain out of his head, and like a hurricane suddenly ceasing to be, control crashed back down upon him. His breathing was labored, his head ringing with pain, and his fury at the inability to fight back welled. Soundlessly, he hurled his glass across the room, watching it shatter against the thick viewport.

He leaned forward, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. It came back damp, and he sat back with a sigh. Every time it came, the presence felt more real, more overpowering, more…like another person inside his head. They were coming. He knew it, even if the rest of the galaxy didn't, and one way or another, he planned to fight.


	21. Beginnings

***Author's Note***  
This chapter is the re-tooled version of the one I posted  
yesterday. A few readers left reviews pointing out some  
inconsistencies, and I really wanted to address them. To  
be honest, something felt wrong when I put the chapter up,  
but I couldn't put my finger on it and wanted to get  
something out for everyone.

Many thanks to the every-wonderful Bofomania and timbryanscott  
for their PM conversations that really help me get some  
perspective on my piece. I hope the additions make the chapter  
and plot as a whole flow better!

Thanks for reading/commenting/reviewing/PMing!

* * *

**Beginnings**

"I mean I'm just saying, there's probably going to be a lot of wild parties and high-stakes card games, and fancy ship upgrades down on that 'Gateway to the Terminus,' and if you could only find one of those things to bring me back as a souvenir…"

John shook his head as he checked the straps on his armor once more, standing by the airlock. "I'll keep an eye out, Joker. Just make sure the ship is still in one piece when I get back, alright?"

"Hey don't worry about that. Between me and my newly gun-toting girlfriend I think the ship will be A-OK."

"I gave Captain Shepard's gun back to him a while ago, _nehya_ …" Lia's voice trailed across the bridge from one of the secondary seats, her usual haunt once her shifts in Engineering were done.

"Oh," Joker replied with surprise. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "Well then I guess the ship is screwed."

John smiled as he replied, waiting for the airlock to slide open. "Should have known better than to leave her in your hands, Joker. Lia, hold down the ship while we're away?"

"I will, captain," came her humor-tinged reply. Joker threw up his hands in feigned frustration as he turned back to his console.

" _Shepard, would you like me to make a systems log of Lia'Vael nar Ulnay's temporary promotion to Executive Officer?"_ EDI's voice filtered into the cabin, and for a moment Shepard, Joker, and Lia all sat silently, looking at each other, unsure if the AI was serious.

"EDI…" Shepard called out cautiously, "did you just make a joke?" There was a brief pause.

" _I attempted."_

"Great, even the AI is taking shots now. That's fantastic; enjoy your trip, Commander!"

John turned and stepped off of the ship, hearing Lia's metallic laughter behind him as the hatch closed. Between the two of them and EDI, the ship was in good hands, and so he'd allowed any crew, squad members or not, to take some shore leave while he picked up his recruits. He smiled inwardly as he walked down the short corridor leading out to Nos Astra, thinking about how when he'd first set foot aboard the new Normandy, he wouldn't have let any of the Cerberus crew within spitting distance. Now, it seemed, he trusted them with far more.

Stepping out onto the trading floor, John missed a step, stumbling a bit at the sight at the end of the docking ramp. His mouth turned up in a smile when he saw Tali on one side, waiting for him, speaking with Jacob, of all people, on the other side. Laughing to himself at his relief upon seeing the absence of drawn weapons, he approached them as they spoke.

"—heard about that. Read the reports, too. Not my work, but I can understand how that doesn't really count for much with the position it puts you in."

"It…can be difficult to see past the logo on your uniform, Operative Taylor, but I'm willing to give it a try, especially if you're helping Shepard."

"What are you two doing here?" he asked as he approached. They both turned to him, Tali with the slight tilt of her head that, for him, was as good as any kiss, and Jacob with a crisp salute. John chuckled at the man's Alliance instinct. "At ease, soldier." The man nodded, dropping his hand as Tali spoke.

"What with everyone else seeing to personal business or restocking the ship, I figured I'd be your muscle today if anything went wrong." He smiled at her.

"Wouldn't want anyone else."

"Well that makes this kind of awkward," Jacob said with a laugh. "I had planned the same thing."

John clapped the man on the shoulder. "Well you're welcome to come along. I could always use another pair of eyes." He nodded, and John took point, leading the three of them to the end of their dock where a purple asari stood waiting with a datapad.

"Commander Shepard!" Her voice was excited as she stepped forward, extending her hand which John shook cordially. "It's a pleasure to be the first to welcome you to Nos Astra and Illium. My name is Rhya, I've been asked by Dr. Liara T'Soni to escort you to her offices whenever you're ready. She's very eager to see you again."

Shepard smiled. "Likewise, I think we're ready now so lead on."

"Wonderful," she replied. "Follow me, please."

They walked through an entry passage, and out onto the trade floor. People of every species ran here and there, talking on personal communicators or tapping frantically at trade consoles. Rhya spoke loudly as she led them through, so as to make herself heard over the general din of the place.

"The Nos Astra trade floor is the largest single-area trade site in the known galaxy. We serve clients in both Citadel space and the Terminus, so naturally our business necessitates the space." John nodded as he walked through, glancing aimlessly into the crowd as they moved.

" _Keelah_ , it reminds me of the Fleet," Tali whispered, soft enough that he wouldn't have heard it had they not been walking right beside each other.

"Miss it?" She turned to look up at him, and he knew his face betrayed the concern he felt for keeping her away from her people.

"Not as much as I thought I would," came her reply, and the slight tilt of her head that he knew passed for a smile. He returned one of his own before calling ahead to Rhya.

"So is Liara's office one of those?" He gestured with a hand to one of the many offices overlooking the trade floor. Set two or three levels up, they offered seclusion without asceticism, but Rhya shook her head.

"Unfortunately, no. Dr. T'Soni purchased an office further into the city itself, away from the constant buzz of the crowds."

John nodded absently. "Makes sense, I suppose."

Rhya led them forward into the city for about fifteen more minutes, constantly talking about the city and planet, their history and Liara's work as an information broker. She seemed very hospitable but something was grating the back of John's mind. They were getting away from the crowd, the noise, the beating heart of Nos Astra, and that seemed more to him where Liara would set up shop. Just as he began to feel apprehensive, however, Rhya stopped in front of a seemingly normal office building.

"Dr. T'Soni's office is just inside," she said with a smile, and John nodded to her.

"Thanks, Rhya, you've been…very informative." The asari nodded to them, then turned and walked back the way they had come. When she had rounded a far corner, John opened the door to the office, stepping inside.

The world immediately shimmered with the blue of his kinetic shields as three bullets tried to slam into his chest. Grabbing either side of the doorframe, he shoved himself backwards, barreling back into Tali and Jacob, and sending the trio tumbling out into the street. Rolling into a crouch, John snapped the assault rifle off of his back, bringing it around to bear on the doorway he'd just tried to enter. A hail of bullets emitted from the room, tearing through the building's tinted glass windows.

"Commander, behind us!" Jacob's voice called to him and he spun on the spot, seeing the same thing happening to the storefront windows across the street. They were trapped between two open ranges of firing, with seconds to find cover. Panic tried to seize his mind, but he slammed it down firmly as a glowing orange orb zoomed past his head. Tali's drone flew straight into the building they'd tried to enter, and after a few seconds the sounds of gunfire stopped, replaced instead by those of electrical discharge and panicked screaming.

Nodding to her, John bolted towards the far storefront at an angle, sparing a glance to his side to see Jacob sprinting with him. Bullets zipped through the air as they ran, and John dove the last few feet, skidding across the hard ground on his armor and into cover against the front of the building. Raising his rifle without looking, he began blind firing over the edge to cover Tali as she joined them.

"Shepard! Chiktikka can't keep them busy forever!" He nodded to Tali, looking to James as the man spoke John's own thoughts.

"Up and over, sir?"

John nodded. "Up and over, soldier."

He hurled all his weight upwards, cresting the bottom of the sharp square hole that had once been a window with ease, firing at any movement he saw. Jacob was up a split-second after him, hands glowing with biotic power. He slammed his hands outward, and three display cases flew backwards, pinning the enemies who had been using them for cover against the back counter of the store. John sprinted forward, stowing his rifle as he ran, and vaulted the counter in one fluid motion. He landed in the midst of three enemies, all of whom took a moment of complete shock at what had happened. It was a moment too much.

Swinging out with a roar, he let the cybernetics in his arms quadruple the power of the hook he delivered into the nearest man's helmet. The visor cracked, blood spurting from the fissure, and his body crumpled to the floor. Without thinking, he thrust his left leg out behind him, catching the second in the stomach before spinning, clasping his hand around his enemy's throat and slamming him into the wall behind them hard enough to leave a dent in the metal. The third enemy pulled a sharp combat knife and leaped at John, but he grabbed the man's wrist in mid-movement, twisting it hard enough to hear a loud _snap_. The man's shriek of pain was cut off abruptly as John slammed his own knife into his throat. A sickening gurgle slowly ebbed away as he dropped the body unceremoniously to the floor.

"Shepard, we've got…something…" came Jacob's voice from the other side of the counter, and John hopped back over, running to crouch on the inside wall of the storefront with him and Tali.

" _Keelah_ , I think 'something' is an understatement…" Tali's whispered words encouraged John, and he peeked over the edge of their cover, across the way to where the second group of enemies waited. Only there wasn't a second group; not one lying in wait, anyway. A single asari, clad in tight-fitting red armor, ran amok within their ranks, dispatching two or three in the blink of an eye, then assaulting the others with a storm of biotic power.

"Well whoever she is, she's not with them," John said as he vaulted back over their cover. "Let's give her a hand."

The three raced back across the street, jumping into the nondescript building and opening fire on all inside. In a few moments, the four of them had cleaned up, and John stowed his rifle, approaching the asari, who simply stood among the dead, as if waiting for him to speak.

"Thanks for the help with that one," he began, extending a hand to her. "I'm—"

"Commander John Shepard, Council Spectre," she finished for him. Her mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile as she read the confused look on his face, and she shook his hand. "I am Samara, of the justicar order. Your reputation as a relentless warrior and advocate of justice preceded you. I could only come to the conclusion that anyone who attacked you or your team," she paused, looking around at all the bodies, "would not share that ideology."

"Man, that's putting it lightly," Jacob mused, inspecting his weapon quickly before holstering it. "That's some kind of biotic power you've got there. I'm no expert, but I'm not a rookie either, and I was impressed."

"I have trained in the biotic arts for centuries, it seems those…skills…are always in practice…"

"I don't like being the one to say so," John began carefully, "but I think they'll be needed again, and soon. I was sent here to find and recruit you, Samara; I need the best the galaxy has to offer, and that's you."

Her eyes turned from the corpses to his own, and she inclined her head slightly in gratitude. "Your words honor me, Shepard, and I've no reason to doubt your cause is just, but I am here on a mission of my own, one that cannot be set aside."

"Perhaps my team and I can help?" he offered, and could see Tali nod in agreement next to him.

"That would be…welcome, actually," she replied, seemingly surprised. "If we can apprehend my target before she leaves Illium, then I give you my word as a justicar to aid you on your journey, Shepard."

John smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

"Commander," Jacob called from across the room, and the others all turned their heads before walking over. The man had taken a communicator from one of the fallen enemies and been trying to tune it in. "Can't get the damn thing to work." Tali stepped up next to him, and he passed it off to her. "Wrong species, I guess."

Shepard chuckled as Tali spun the dials and recalculated the communicator's interface in the blink of an eye, opening a comm channel to whoever was ordering these black-clad men and women. The voice came through immediately, not waiting for an introduction.

" _Is Shepard secure?"_

John crossed his arms as he replied, "Not as secure as you'd hoped, I think."

" _Shepard."_

"Yea, we're all well aware of my name. Now who the hell is this?"

" _I'm growing tired of your continued evasion of me, Shepard. They said they needed you alive, but not fully functional…"_

The comm relay winked out of existence in the air over the communicator, and John shrugged at the cryptic message. As he tried to wrap his head around it, the communicator began to emit a sharp whine, slowly growing louder in intensity. Staring at it, John couldn't understand what could be ca—his eyes snapped up to meet Tali's, both wide in the instant of recognition. Closing the gap between then in a single step, John grabbed it out of her three-fingered hands and hurled it through one of the open windows.

"Get dow-!" the explosion cut off the rest of what he'd been yelling, sending a wave of electricity outward in every direction and arcing over the barrier than had suddenly snapped into existence above them. Removing his hands from in front of his face, John looked up from his crouched position to see Samara standing tall, hands thrust upwards to maintain the barrier. As soon as the energy storm subsided, she let her hands fall, stumbling a bit to regain her balance.

"Samara?" John asked, getting to his feet. She waved his concerns away.

"I am fine, Shepard. A barrier strong enough to resist energy of that intensity is draining on the body. I will not be at my peak combat performance for a short time."

"Alright," began Jacob, standing up and brushing off his combat suit, "I don't know who your new 'biggest fans ever' are Shepard, but they're a little too zealous for me."

"Agreed," John replied, offering Tali a hand to help her up, which she readily took, giving his hand a small squeeze before letting go. "Still, at least we were in contact with someone. And if that same someone is the entity behind Lazarus Station, or Okeer's stunt on the Normandy, I'd say that's a step in the right direction." He looked around the scattered corpses, eventually finding one similar to the one Jacob had pulled the communicator from. Turning over the body, he found it, clasped onto the back of his belt. In a moment, he had unfastened it, tossing it into the air and catching it again as he stood. "Hopefully we can get some answers here." He held the device out to Tali as he continued. "Can you disarm this thing?"

A soft metallic laugh came out of her helmet, and his heart warmed a bit at the sound. She took the communicator from him, and flipped it over, beginning to scan it with her omni-tool. "Please…a half-drunk krogan could disarm this thing…"

He chuckled before responding. "Well be that as it may, I'd prefer you do it. Maybe once it's no longer a weapon we can find out who it belongs to." She nodded as she worked, and Samara spoke.

"A sound plan, Shepard, but I must warn you; the electrical blast I resisted would have incapacitated anyone within fifty meters of its epicenter."

"And if whoever that was on the communicator thinks you're here, incapacitated…" Tali began.

"Right, let's move out. We need to get somewhere safe, find out who this thing belongs to, and plan our next move."

"I know of such a place," Samara said, standing upright with some difficulty. "I was actually on my way there when I found you fighting."

John nodded. "Then lead the way."

* * *

"The problem doesn't lie with his qualifications, Councilor; we're both well aware of how capable Commander Alenko is." Udina's voice was polite, though just barely, and Anderson could hear the man stress to keep a civil tone. "The problem is suggesting that a former team member of Shepard's take his place as humanity's foremost Spectre. What's to say the same thing won't happen again?"

"And what 'same thing' is that, Ambassador?" Anderson replied as he walked along the embassy hallway towards his office. "Hunting down one of the best Spectres to ever live, stopping a Reaper from ripping the Citadel in half, or almost single-handedly pushing back the geth invasions of our worlds?"

"Please, Councilor, it was bad enough to have to hear Shepard continue to insist that these Reapers were coming to exterminate us, must you continue to support his ravings? It's not making you very popular with the majority of our people…"

Anderson rounded on the man as the pair reached his door. "Let them think what they want about me, Udina! Council membership isn't a democratic process, so I don't give a damn if they believe Shepard, or believe me. The Reapers **are** out there, and they **are** coming." An uncomfortable pause hung in the air between them, and Anderson turned to enter his office, rolling his eyes slightly when he noticed the other man continuing to follow him in.

"Fine, you're the Councilor for humanity, you're allowed to have whatever viewpoint you like on that subject. But Commander Alenko will never be allowed into the Spectres if he continues to speak out about the Reapers as Shepard did." Anderson turned to the man, fire in his eyes, but knowing he was right. Sensing he'd gained the upper hand, Udina continued. "All I'm saying, Councilor, is this: choose carefully the next human you try to make Spectre."

Anderson turned back to his desk, waving his hand at the man to dismiss him. He exited the office without a word, and as the door closed behind him, Anderson rounded the desk, sitting down in the chair and turning it around to look out over the Presidium. Years ago he had seen it aflame, blanketed in the falling pieces of a defeated Reaper. Yet now, it seemed everyone was willing to unanimously forget that event had ever happened. The Citadel had been cleaned up, Sovereign had been swept under the rug as a single geth warship, and life had gone on.

Only it hadn't gone on as it should have, he thought as he turned the chair away from the idyllic view and back to his desk. Reapers were still a myth, the ravings of a madman; a madman who had just so happened to give his life defending all those who called him such. He shook his head in frustration. No one would believe them until it was too late, but they needed evidence, something to prove to these people that Reapers were more than just a myth. He could only hope that Shepard could find something; a link, a clue, anything to prove that what they both knew was right. His terminal began to blink, and he accepted the communication.

" _Councilor Anderson, sir. Commander Kaidan Alenko is here as per your request."_

"I understand, send him up."

" _Right away, Councilor."_

Anderson stood, walking back to the viewport and clasping his hands behind his back. As much as he hated to admit it, Udina had a point. Getting Kaidan to become humanity's next Spectre wouldn't be easy with his belief in Shepard, but he refused to budge on that line. No matter how little the Council wanted to hear it, they were coming.

And the galaxy was nowhere near ready.

* * *

"Ha," Jacob barked the laugh as Samara led them off of the trade floor, and over to a small lift. "Talk about calling a shot; you practically pointed right to her office when we walked through here earlier. What tipped you off?"

John smirked as they stepped onto the lift. It rose rapidly, leading them to an elevated walkway above the main trading floor. From here, it seemed, almost every office they'd seen before was accessible. He turned to the other man as they exited the lift. "You work long enough with someone, you get to know them. I imagine there are a couple people you know that well, Jacob."

"Yea, though not as many as I'd like, if we're being honest." The man let his gaze drift away from Shepard, out over Nos Astra.

John followed his look back into the crowds below as they passed. So many people, rushing to make the next big sell or find some way to get a slightly higher profit margin; completely unaware that any moment the Reapers could be here, making their entire lives pointless. He shook the melancholy thoughts from his head as Samara slowed their pace; reaching out and pressing the access panel of the door she stood in front of. It split, the sides sliding away to grant them access, and a young asari behind a desk at the far end of the room stood to welcome them.

"Justicar, you honor us once again with your presence. And…" she started in recognition. "Commander Shepard? By the goddess, if you don't mind my being blunt, I thought you were dead."

"Don't worry," he said with a smile as he stopped in front of her. "You're in the majority there." She laughed, a small sound more of disbelief than of humor, and Samara spoke.

"May we speak with Dr. T'Soni, Nyxeris?"

"Wh-? Oh, yes, absolutely! Just let me…let me contact her…" The asari's hands flew over the controls, but her eyes kept flicking back up to John, as if continuing to disbelieve his existence. Eventually the link was established, and a familiar voice came out of the terminal. It was…hardened, older, but still his old friend.

" _Yes, Nyxeris, what do you need?"_

"The justicar Samara has returned to see you again, and she's brought some…surprising guests…"

" _Very well, send them in, please."_

"Right away." Nyxeris tapped a key on her console, and a door opened on the side of the room. Passing into it, John could see out of the far wall of windows out over Nos Astra below, a large orange sun setting far away in the sky, just beginning to cast an evening glow over the city. Silhouetted against the sun, an asari slowly stood from her seated position behind the room's only desk.

"…Shepard?" She began to walk around the side of her desk and cross to them, her pace quickening as realization dawned on her. She ran the last few steps, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace, which he returned.

"In the flesh, well…flesh and tech…"

"Mostly tech…" Jacob commented.

Liara stepped back from him, appraising his face. "By the Goddess, I can't believe they actually did it. I mean, they said they could, even had hard scientific evidence to prove it, but…they brought you back." After a moment, her eyes moved to the others. "And Tali also, I'm glad to see you again."

"Likewise, Liara."

"So," John began warily, "you knew Cerberus was responsible?"

"Yes," she replied softly, turning her gaze away and crossing back her desk. She placed her hand on a box there, letting it linger for a moment before working up the courage to face him again. "I was the one who gave you to them."

John could feel his eyes widening with the shock, it hit him like a bullet. "You…what?"

"Yes," she began again, starting to pace back and forth as she continued. "After your funeral, the Normandy crew was dissolved. Wrex…left. Back to Tuchanka, I imagine. Garrus took T—," she paused for a moment, looking at Tali, who had moved closer to John when Liara had said what she'd done. "He took Tali back to the Fleet. Kaidan and Joker were taken by the Alliance to some classified location, and I was alone on the Citadel; alone with my thoughts. I couldn't…" she looked away again before continuing. "I couldn't let it end like that, you out there, all of us separated; so I liquidated a large portion of Benezia's assets that had passed to me. I used the money to hire a mercenary team, paid them more than they'd ever seen in their lives to ensure their loyalty, and went with them to retrieve…what was left of you." Her eyes locked firmly back on his. "It wasn't pretty, Shepard. I had you back, but…you weren't you, and I didn't know what to do. I looked into everything: robotics, VI and AI integration, mass tissue regeneration, but none of it seemed…right. You wouldn't have been **you** when you came out of it."

"I'm…still not seeing where Cerberus plays into all this…" he replied warily.

"Well…I wasn't the only one after you. When we got to Alchera, there was already a ship in orbit. That planet…it's so far out of the way, no civilization has any kind of stake there; I knew anyone coming there would only be after one thing. My team and I hit the surface, it was easy really…just had to…follow the wreckage…" She trailed off, turning to look out the window, haunting memories almost visible playing across her features. After a moment, she shook her head softly, returning to his gaze again. "We found you, but he already had a team there. It was…a bloodbath, Shepard. At the end of it, only one of the mercenaries and I still stood, and we took you with us."

John took a few cautious steps forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You...you said 'he' had a team on the ground. Who do you mean, The Illusive Man?" She shook her head.

"No, Shepard. The Shadow Broker. He wanted your body; I didn't know why at the time, but over the years I've been digging deeper into his organization." She rounded her desk in a flurry, fingers flying over her terminal's holographic interface as pages upon pages of contacts and reports winked in and out of existence in the air above the desk. John watched them all fly past one another as she continued. "It's all so clandestine, so secretive. Every time I get a contact with information, they turn up dead. Every time I have a lead, it ends cold." Her fingers flew faster, more and more pages flying into and out of existence, and in one quick motion she slammed her hands down through the holographic keyboard and onto the desk below. "I can't…for all my resources and skill, I can't get to him. But he can get to me." After a short moment of silence that felt like hours, she raised her eyes to meet his again and continued.

"I put myself up in a decent place on the Citadel, out of the way, secluded. But things started happening. Short circuits, terminal overloads…it was all too coincidental. Then one night, as I was returning from meeting a contact, he made his move, tried to take me out. Again," she nodded past his shoulder to the now-closed door, "the mercenary saved my skin. After that we both left the Citadel in secret, taking you with us and hoping to evade the Broker's eye."

"Nyxeris," Tali said softly, and Liara nodded.

"But she's only half the reason I'm still alive. All the files on what happened above Alchera were classified, but eventually the Illusive Man's agents found out what happened. He contacted me directly, asked if I knew where you were. At first I told him to go to hell; it seemed like what…what I should have done. But he kept contacting me, kept telling me he had a plan to bring you back, just as you were, if I would only tell him where you were." She stopped pacing, sitting on the edge of her desk and resting her palms on top of it. "What with his relentless questioning and the Broker's hunting me, even here on Illium, eventually I just caved, Shepard. I told him I could deliver you, but I wanted to know everything he planned to do. As an information broker, I can tell you with certainty, he must have wanted you badly. He didn't even negotiate with me, just showed me everything: the advanced treatments, the prototype cybernetics, the billions of credits worth of medicine and tech involved…he had the means. I agreed to his deal, I let them have you, and I've spent the past two years wondering if that was the biggest mistake I'd ever made. At the time, it seemed like…"

"As if no path led to a morally correct choice," Samara finished quietly.

"Precisely."

"Regardless of how or why Cerberus got involved," John began, "if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here. You brought me back, Liara, and that's something I can never repay you for."

She smiled, tears brimming her eyes before she wiped them away, walking back around her desk as she spoke. "Well, you stop the Reapers and I'll consider us even. I've been collecting everything I can about them, but it hasn't been much. Still, anything I have is yours. I've had more time to look lately; since I gave you to Cerberus, the Broker has mainly stuck to taunts in my inbox and the occasional assassination attempt."

"Yea, I can imagine," John said, pulling the communicator off of his belt. "With what you've just told us, I'm pretty sure he's been spending all his time hunting **me** , now that I'm up and moving." He held the device out to her, and she took it, activating her omni-tool and scanning over it.

"It's heavily encrypted…it'll take me some time to confirm who it belongs to, but it only makes sense. I'm…Shepard I'm sorry to have put this onto your shoulders."

"Don't worry about it; with my team I can handle whatever he throws at us. It's just good to have an idea of who I'm fighting." She nodded, setting the device down on her desk.

"Here," she said, holding her omni-tool out to his, gesturing for him to do the same. He did, and data began transmitting between the two devices. "My encrypted channel; I can contact you the moment I find something out about the communicator, or anything about the Broker that can help you." He nodded as the transfer finished, and closed his device.

"I appreciate it, but right now I'm here to find someone. Well, two people actually," he added, gesturing to Samara. "I'm building a team to stop the Collectors. They've been abducting human colonies, and they're working with the Reapers."

"Well," she began apprehensively, "I suppose it was a little too much to hope they'd sit back and wait, wasn't it?" He nodded silently to her, and she walked behind her desk, opening up her private terminal's holographic interface again. "If you're looking for someone here on Illium, I can help you."

"Great. Our dossier says he's a drell assassin, na—"

"Thane Krios," she whispered, interrupting him.

"You know him?"

"Know him? He was in here earlier today running a last check on all the information I had on his target. He's been planning the job for a while now; I've been giving him the information he needs. When he left earlier, he said he was going tonight."

"Alright, well we can try to catch him before he gets there. Who's his target?"

Liara's fingers flew over her keys, pulling up all the information she had. "Nassana Dantius."

"The asari diplomat on the Citadel?"

"Not a diplomat anymore. Word leaked out that you shut down her sister's slaving ring, and she was 'politely asked' to resign her position. Afterwards, she came here to Illium. She's made a public living in the biotic amps market, but under the table…it's a string of black market dealings and hard-target assassinations against anyone attempting to rival her corporation. Thane was hired to take her down, and I'm surprised it's taken anyone this long to contract it out. Plus there's this…" Her fingers flew again, and in a moment a small wavelength chart appeared, pulsing with the volume intensity of the audio file that played.

" _Hold shipment 842. We're sending it out tonight, Nassana wants something else on it; a person from the sounds of it."_ The gravelly human voice was followed by the sharp clip of a salarian.

" _Since when are we in the stow-away business?"_

" _Since Nassana wants us to be. She's the one paying the bill, and I've seen what she does to people just for not running fast enough; don't expect me to ask any questions."_

"So Nassana has her own guard force?" John asked, crossing his arms as he took in the rest of the information about the asari that hung in the air before him.

"Eclipse mercenaries. I had some friends place listeners in the cargo area of her towers, but the place has since been swept clean, and I haven't been able to get anyone else in there since; it's locked down tight. If you're going in there Shepard, you're going in blind."

"And you believe this passenger to be the one I seek?" Samara asked.

"I do, justicar. The last shred of a lead I had on her was a spotting: a meeting between her and an Eclipse mercenary. I think the connection is too great to ignore." The justicar nodded, and John turned to look out the window. The sun was setting fast, and time was running out.

"What are his chances?" The question hung in the air, and Liara answered quietly.

"Slim, at best. Nassana has spent her entire time on Illium either assassinating rivals or preventing the same from happening to her. Thane knows what he's up against, and I warned him that the situation looked grim, but…it didn't seem to bother him."

"Well either way," John said, turning to the other three with him, "we know where he'll be. With Samara's target in there as well, and about to escape, it looks like that's our next stop."

Liara nodded. "Then let me transfer everything I have to you. I'll get in touch with my contact at the transport station. She helped Thane get close to the towers; she can help you as well."

"Do you want me to call in the rest of the crew, Commander?" Jacob asked.

"No, that's alright. If we're trying to catch Thane and Samara's target, we'll need to move as fast and quiet as possible. The four of us should be able to handle it." The other man nodded, and John turned back to Liara. "Alright, let's go catch an assassin."

* * *

"You are just as hateful as the Mako, you know that?" Garrus's voice was quiet but harsh as he tried to calibrate the main gun's targeting array. Having returned to the Normandy from Nos Astra, he had sought to get a little downtime to tweak its output. So far though, the gun had been anything but cooperative. Adjusting the settings again, he ran diagnostics, leaning back against the bulkhead and closing his eyes while he waited for them to compile. His omni-tool chimed, and he opened it, checking the message. It was, of course, from an unknown sender.

_Vakarian,_

_Found your target. He's holed up on a private estate on Bekenstein, not far from the Citadel. Coordinates are attached. Not sure why you're interested in Donovan Hock, but its bad business to ask questions of one's clients. I've extracted my fee from your accounts as per your instructions. I hope the information serves you well. As a gesture of no hard feelings, his itinerary is also attached. Stay safe, Vakarian._

A smile pulled at the edges of his mandibles, and he saved the information to his device, checking that the diagnostic was still running before leaving the Battery and walking down the long hall. Gardner was busy preparing dinner for the crew, a few of whom sat at the mess tables playing cards. As he walked past, many of them nodded to him, and he returned the gesture. They'd been wary at first, but after recognizing him as the turian who helped Shepard stop Saren, it had been nothing but respect. He was beginning to think maybe he could get used to a hero's life after all.

Moving past the lift, he turned the corner to see the door to the ship's lounge green and unlocked. Pressing his hand to it, he waited for the doors to slide open before stepping inside. Looking around, he saw no sign of Kasumi, and shrugged to himself, crossing the room to the bar and fixing a drink with some of the 'necessary resources' he'd picked up from Nos Astra.

Staring down into his drink, he began to think of his team on Omega. They'd worked hard to rid the station of the gangs, but never really taken the time to get to know one another. Looking back, it was probably his greatest regret. They'd been a unit, a family, and yet spirits take him if he could remember a single personal thing about any of them.

"Guess that's how it has to be, situation we were in…" he mused aloud to himself, swirling the liquid in the glass. He whispered a silent prayer for his fallen family, and as he finished the doors behind him snapped open to admit the person he was looking for.

"Breaking into the liquor already, are we?" He couldn't help but let what passed for turians as a grin slip itself onto his face at her cheerful voice. He turned on the barstool, standing with his drink as he replied.

"Well, news like this deserves a bit of a reward." He held out his glass to make a toast. "Well done, Garrus." Downing the last of the glass's contents in one gulp, he replaced it on the counter and crossed to her, firing up his omni-tool as he did to show the message he'd just received. He could see her reading the message, mouthing the words as her eyes traversed them, growing ever larger as she continued. When she finished, she hung her head, and her voice was a whisper.

"You were…you were looking for Sidonis. Why…I mean I'm grateful but…" Her eyes rose to meet his own. "Confused."

"It was ah…nothing; just a favor for a friend. I've got people looking into Sidonis, too…" he let the lie trail off, and a small smirk grew on her face.

"You know I have ways of checking if that's true, right?"

"Hah…" His laugh was nervous, and he crossed his arms, letting his omni-tool wink out of existence as he leaned back against the bulkhead. "Well I mean if you don't _want_ the information…"

"No! I do…I just…" her reply came hastily, then tapered off into an awkward silence. "Thank you, Garrus. This makes twice you've saved my skin."

"Well, it looks good on you." He smiled at her, and hoped she could decipher the gesture. She smiled back up at him, and he continued. "Really, it's nothing. Just trying to give you some peace of mind. Though I imagine news like this stirs up more questions than answers."

"Bullet point of the century…" she mused as she transferred the data from his outstretched arm onto her own device. "With all this…I can finally end this. You don't know what you've done for me." Her eyes locked onto his again, and he almost felt pulled into them. Gently clearing his throat, he stepped toward the door.

"Any time, Kasumi." He turned to go, but stopped when he felt her hand on his arm. Turning, he saw her standing as she had been, but simply reaching out for him. His eyes traced her arm back to where it met her shoulder, up to her eyes. To his surprise, they were brimmed with tears. He turned fully back to face her, and she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. He embraced her as well, leaning his head close to listen to her whispers. There was no sobbing, no shaking, no somber fury, just silent tears and whispered words.

" _I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…"_

"Hey, come on," he said in his best reassuring tone, not sure if it was actually working. "Don't apologize. Everyone needs to break down sometimes, why the hell do you think I'm always calibrating something in the Battery? I'm not **that** bad at my job!"

A small laugh emanated from the woman he held, and a twinge of disappointment embedded itself in his thoughts as she stepped back from him, silently wiping her eyes with the finger of a sleek glove. She smiled up at him, her face giving no indication that any of it had ever happened. "I suppose you're right."

"When am I ever wrong?" He asked mockingly, spreading his arms wide in question as he took a step towards the door. As it opened to the empty hallway beyond, he turned back to her. "When the time comes, if you need me, I'm here." After a brief moment, she nodded, and he returned the gesture, stepping out into the hallway and letting the door close behind him.

* * *

"It's clear," John called, standing from his cover spot. Tali stood as well from her position next to him and crossed to the elevator door, opening her omni-tool and beginning the override sequence to call it down for them. John checked his weapon as Jacob and Samara rejoined him from their flanking position. The resistance they'd met so far had been slim to none, and between the four of them they'd easily dispatched a few unorganized bands of Eclipse mercenaries.

"We've got a small problem," Tali called from the elevator panel, and the three of them walked over to join her. "I've downloaded a copy of tower one's layout; level forty-six is where we are now, where the bridge from the roof of tower two connected. The penthouse is obviously at the top, but the cargo area is on level thirty-two."

"Shepard," Samara began quietly, "I have chased my target for almost three centuries; she is extremely adept at escape. If she learns that I am with this invading force before I confront her, I will lose this opportunity." John nodded silently as he considered the situation. He could go help Samara, but did he really trust Jacob, a Cerberus operative, being the only person having Tali's back? Unconsciously, his eyes found the man as he stood with his back to John, keeping a lookout behind them. It was true he'd been trustworthy so far, but this was Tali...he looked over and was surprised to see her no longer looking down at her omni-tool, but instead watching him. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then she nodded once, returning to her work. An icy pit formed in his stomach, and as much as he wanted to scream to the contrary, he spoke what they'd silently agreed upon.

"Alright, Samara. You and I will head down to find your target; Jacob and Tali will head up to find our assassin. Keep your channels open and let me know the second you make contact with him." The justicar nodded, stepping towards the elevator, and John followed her, leaning close to Tali as he passed her. "And please be careful." She placed a hand gently on his shoulder in reassurance, and he nodded, stepping into the open elevator with the justicar. He held her eyes until the doors closed, then closed his own for a moment, hoping for the best. Their silence was broken by the justicar, who spoke softly, her eyes fixed on the floor number as it rapidly declined.

"I am aware of the risk you take to aid me, Shepard."

He allowed his eyes to open, staring down at his weapon as he checked over it again, just to have something to do, something to feed his worry into. "With all due respect, Samara…I don't think you do. I mean, I'm happy to help you with your mission, three hundred years is a length of time chasing someone I can't even imagine, but…" He collapsed the weapon on his back again, turning his head to look at her. "It's complicated." To his surprise, the asari laughed softly under her breath before turning to face him as well.

"I have lived for almost a thousand years, Shepard. I have seen wars begin and end, the rise and fall of men of many species, I have seen the appearance of Tali's people without their exosuits. And, contrary to what many seem to believe, even justicars had their time as a young maiden. I know affection when I see it."

He looked down at the floor again, laughing slightly. "Alright…maybe you do know the risk I'm taking."

"She fights fiercely to protect you. It is a trait I have seen far too infrequently in my travels."

"Yea," he replied, raising his eyes and readying his rifle as the floor number approached thirty-two. "She always has."

* * *

" _This is Shepard; Samara and I just exited on the thirty-second floor. The elevator should be on its way back up. Stay safe, and watch each other's back."_

"Understood, Commander." Jacob replied with confidence, and a moment later the elevator doors opened to admit him. Tali followed afterward, stepping wordlessly into the lift and pressing the key for the penthouse. As the elevator doors closed, a small chiming began to sound inside her helmet, drawing her attention to the heads-up display of her vital signs on the left. Blood pressure increased; heart rate elevating…she pressed a small indicator on her palm with one finger, and the alert stopped. The silence inside the elevator began to be overwhelming, and she jumped a bit when Jacob broke it.

"So, how do you want to play this?"

"Sorry?"

"Are we headed in guns blazing, splitting up, how do you want to handle it?" Another short pause passed as the elevator continued to ascend, and he chuckled before speaking again. "Look, you've been with Shepard from the start, since before Sovereign and Saren; so the way I see it, with him not around, you're in command here."

Her mind reeled. The Cerberus agent was…deferring to **her**? "Ah, right. Well let's get quickly into cover, I can scout ahead with my drone, and we'll decide how to take it from there."

He nodded, readying his rifle. "Sounds like a plan."

The elevator began to slow as it reached the top of the tower, and Tali readied her shotgun as she spoke. "When the doors open, head left. I'll swing right and check for hostiles." He nodded, and the doors opened. They rushed out, immediately taking cover on either side of an open archway leading into a larger room ahead. Peering through it, Tali could see six Eclipse mercenaries standing about. She caught Jacob's glance, holding up three fingers and then point them left. He nodded, and she tapped on her omni-tool, sending Chiktikka in. The mercs immediately panicked, firing at the drone while trying to find cover, and the two of them rushed in.

Jacob went left, taking two of them down in a hail of gunfire as he strafed around to find cover. Tali moved to the right, catching a merc in the chest with a shotgun blast before suppressive fire forced her down behind a pillar. Jacob was pinned down as well, with a pair of mercenaries trading off firing as they closed in on him. Tapping her omni-tool again, she sent Chiktikka zooming across the room to detonate behind them in a small nova of electricity. The shocks overloaded their shields, and Jacob rushed over the top, catching one in the neck with the stock of his rifle before putting three rounds into the second.

Tali swung around the side of the pillar, and right into the face of the last mercenary. Gasping, she ducked under his pistol fire, rolling to come up beside him and deliver a blow to his helmet with the stock of her shotgun, cracking his visor. He stumbled back as Jacob pelleted his body with bullets. The group cleaned up, they crossed to the far side of the room. The ornate door leading to the only other room on this floor was locked down, and Tali set to work on it, quickly clearing out all the encryption protocols. The door slid open, and a hail of bullets slammed into Jacob's shields. Moving to the right, he pulled Tali with him out of the line of fire, before leaning back into the doorway, taking out two of the four Eclipse mercenaries before ducking back. Tali leaned through the doorway, seeing two FENRIS mechs alongside the soldiers, and hacked it with her omni-tool, causing the canine mech to attack its allies as Jacob and Tali rushed into the door.

Jacob began taking fire again, but he dove to the left, rolling behind a large computer terminal as the hacked FENRIS wreaked havoc among the Eclipse soldiers. Their fire eventually cut it down, but Tali overrode its shutdown protocols, completely reversing them and causing it to overload. Electrical discharges sounded off, and Jacob came up over the top, putting three rounds into the nearest merc, while Tali rushed the last one, taking him down with her shotgun before turning to train the weapon on Nassana, who stood behind the central terminal, eyes wide in disbelief. Jacob focused his weapon on her as well, and the drone disappeared.

"Y-You!" She stammered as she looked at Tali. "Then it **is** Shepard! But…he was dead!"

"Yea, he got better." A chuckle emitted from Jacob, and Tali allowed a small smirk to slide onto her face behind her visor.

"That's impossible…but it doesn't matter." She pulled her hands out from under her robes, a pistol in each one, and trained them on Jacob and Tali. "I'm never unarmed."

"Put them down, Nassana. We're not here for you." Jacob's voice was steel, and Tali held her weapon steady as she watched Nassana.

"Ha! And what's supposed to make me believe that? All my dead mercenaries? My completely annihilated second tower? It's ironic; Shepard and his little friends killed my sister, and now you're here for me." As she finished her sentence, a man dropped down from a ventilation shaft behind her, and it took all of Tali's self-control not to look at him, tipping Nassana off. In her peripheral vision, Tali could see the man approach Nassana quietly, then nod to her.

"Like he said," she began, "We're not here for you." She let her eyes meet the assassin's, nodding to him. "We're here for him." Nassana's eyes went wide, and she spun to follow where Tali had been looking, finding herself face to face with the assassin. She tried to bring both weapons to bear on him, but he grabbed her arms in a flash, breaking the bones of the fingers in one hand and forcing her to drop the weapon it held. His other hand grabbed her wrist, and he twisted it, causing her arm to twist and her hand to lose its grip. In one fluid motion, he disarmed her, turned the weapon around in his hands, slammed it against her stomach, and pulled the trigger. Nassana grunted in pain before falling back onto her console, and the man folded her hands over the wound before beginning to search around her console as he spoke.

"My thanks. That should have been far more difficult. She seemed to know you. Then again, I suppose the whole galaxy should know Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

"I'm…you know me?" She asked hesitantly, collapsing her weapon as Jacob did the same. The assassin nodded as he continued to search for something.

"Every report after the incident held your names. Commander John Shepard, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Garrus Vakarian, the heroes of the Citadel."

"What exactly are you searching for?" Jacob spoke up as he approached the console.

"A detonator. On my way up through the ventilation shafts and maintenance hallways, I ran across multiple strategically placed high-grade explosives. Each was equipped with a transmitter, which should be around here in the form of a detonator, an omni-tool runtime, or a—" Nassana's omni-tool sprang to life in front of his face, and all three of them hesitantly stepped back. It displayed an orange timer interface.

_00:30…00:29…00:28_

"…deadman switch…" Thane finished quietly. Tali tapped away furiously on her omni-tool, opening their communications channel.

"Shepard, come in!"

* * *

The last Eclipse mercenary fell, surrounded in the blue fire of Samara's biotic power, and they approached the large doors on the other end of the hallway.

"Alright," John said, consulting his omni-tool's map of the facility. "The cargo dock is just inside here; any tips on fighting…whatever it is you're hunting?"

"If we are lucky, we will not have to fight her," Samara replied as they reached the door.

"Right…not exactly what I was looking for, but I'll stay out of sight, back you up if you need it." The asari nodded, and he pressed the access panel, following Samara into the room and then immediately breaking off to the left, sticking to shadows as they both moved through the cargo bay.

Just as he began to think them alone in the room, a sharp laugh echoed from across the bay. Peering through the shadows, he could see the asari clad in black, sitting cross-legged on top of a storage crate, just before she spoke to a slowly-approaching approaching Samara.

"Ahh…I thought it might be you. Who else would storm Nassana Dantius's towers with little regard for their own safety."

"Morinth," Samara began powerfully, "come with me. Go back to the monastery with your sisters; you can live in peace."

"Peace?" Morinth spat the question. "Do you think I do…all this," she gestured with outstretched hands, "because I dislike it? Because I think that maybe if I just do it enough I'll come to terms with the bad, wicked person I am?" She hopped down off of the crate, moving forward to stand a few meters away from Samara. Shepard trained his rifle on her, and waited as she continued. "You're a fool, **mother**. You always have been." John pulled his eye away from the scope. Mother? Shaking his head, he replaced it, keeping Morinth in his sights.

"Do not call me that, Morinth! You stopped being my daughter when you ran from the monastery; when you took your first life!" She wound up a biotic attack and hurled it forward, but Morinth slapped it aside, firing one of her own that caught Samara in the shoulder, sending her back a few steps.

"I'll call you what you are, **mother**. And you'll find I've learned a few tricks of my own in my time on the run from you. So much so, in fact, that I decided to just end it, here and now. You'll be dead, and I'll finally be free to be who I am."

" **What** you are is a monster, Morinth. And by the Code, I will do my duty to stop you." Both pairs of hands glowed, and two biotic spheres arced out and crashed into each other, both forces counteracted by each other. Seeing them in deadlock, John stepped out from the shadows, firing into Morinth's biotic barrier. Her eyes snapped to him, wide with panic, and the momentary lapse in concentration allowed Samara to overwhelm her, throwing her backwards into the air. She recovered quickly, flipping to land on her feet further away. A moment of dead tension hung between them all, Morinth looking back and forth between her two assailants. Then, in a moment, she was sprinting, running towards the back of the cargo bay, using her biotics to vault over huge swathes of cargo containers.

"Do not let her escape, Shepard!" Samara cried out as she gave chase, using the same biotic acrobatics as her daughter. John bolted, sliding over the tops of the crates and pushing the cybernetics in his legs to keep up with the two powerful asari. Rushing through the far doorway a few seconds after Samara, he looked ahead, seeing her charge into a group of Eclipse soldiers as Morinth continued to run further ahead.

He assessed the battlefield in a moment, seeing the fight, the fleeing Morinth, and the almost-concealed maintenance hallway entrance to his left. He rushed for it, bashing the door in with his shoulder and charging up the empty hallway. A lone door stood farther up the corridor and to his right, and his mental image of the room outside lined it up as being behind the soldiers samara fought. He pushed himself as he approached it, slamming into it. The door burst open wide, putting John right behind Morinth as she tried to access another doorway in the back of the room.

"Stop!" John yelled, raising his rifle to cover her. She halted in pressing the access panel, instead slowly raising her hands over her head and turning to face him. He held his rifle steady, and she began to slowly walk towards him.

"Right…now I remember your face. Commander Shepard, Hero of the Citadel…You looked quite handsome on the vidscreen."

"Just stop there," he called out, but something was…off. Her eyes...had gone completely black, and the whole rest of the room seemed…washed out of all its color compared to the sensual blue of her skin. He felt his hands begin to lower his rifle as she closed to within inches of him.

"Quite handsome…" she began. Her words were honey, and no small part of him delighted in hearing her praise him. "Still," she whispered, "you're not here for me, are you?"

"I ah…no, not really," he replied. His mind felt packed with cotton, everything fuzzy and unclear as he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "I was…we…right, we. Uh, we were here for…the assassin."

"Assassin?" The word slipped into his ear like a cool breeze, and he smiled as she continued. "Well, I think he'll get away if you don't go after him soon, don't you? Assassins are like that, you know." He laughed softly, she was completely right. He nodded and began to turn away when he heard a crack just behind his ear. Spinning quickly, the fuzziness and cloudiness in his head disappeared in an instant as he saw Morinth careen into the far wall, crashing into it before scrambling to her feet and rushing through the door.

"Shepard!" Samara cried as she rushed to him.

"Wh-what the hell…" he trailed off, unable to put into words what had just happened to him.

"Come on, Shepard! I will explain everything later!" And then she was gone, chasing Morinth through the doorway. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood, rushing in to follow her, when his communicator flared to life.

" _Shepard, come in!"_

"Tali! What's wrong?"

" _We've got Thane with us, and Nassana is down, but she's got explosives on every other level of both towers rigged to a deadman switch. Its coded in a language I don't understand; we need to get out of here now!"_

"Ok, just…" he trailed off as terror gripped his chest. He couldn't get to her, couldn't save her. He was about to speak again when a familiar voice cut into their comm channel.

" _Shepard, I'm on my way! Tell your people to get to the roof!"_

"Liara? How the hell…"

" _When I gave you my omni-tool data, I uploaded a transmitting program as well. I wasn't about to lose you an hour after seeing you alive again. You can yell at me later, but tell your people to get to the roof now!"_

" _We're on our way, Liara,"_ Tali's voice replied, and John opened his mouth to speak.

"Get to the roof, then. Liara will pick you up and then circle back around below to find u—"

"No!" Samara's voice cut into what he'd been saying, and he whipped his head up to look. She was already halfway across the huge docking bay, but Morinth was further, clambering into a shuttle and prepping it for liftoff. Sweeping his eyes across the bay, John could see the control panel to the only open port, and he sprinted for it. As he closed, Morinth's shuttle took off, heading straight for the opening. Realizing he wouldn't make it in time, John raised his rifle, firing into the console until it exploding, shorting out. Emergency claxons began to blare out, and the doors shut with a resounding _thud_ before Morinth's shuttle could get to them. She leaped out of it, allowing the shuttle to run into the doors and crash to the floor of the bay as she sprinted for the next door.

The floor beneath them buckled and shook with an explosion below that reverberated through the beams holding the building up. All three of them stumbled as they ran, but Samara recovered first, rushing toward the scrambling form of her daughter. Morinth stood, raising her hands to defend herself, but Samara thrust her own out. A powerful biotic wave slammed into Morinth, pinning her against the wall, and then exploding the wall outward, Morinth flying out onto the connecting bridge between the two quickly-crumbling towers. Samara stepped out after her, and John rushed out of the hole as well, following a few meters behind, his rifle trained on Morinth.

* * *

"Alright, Thane, can you get us to the roof?"

"Yes, there is a maintenance access point that will take us there."

"Good, then let's move out."

The drell nodded, leading them across the room to a part of the wall that recessed away into a maintenance hallway. After a series of ladders and ramps, Thane kicked a door outwards. Fast, frigid wind whipped around them as they stepped out onto the roof, and another series of blasts shook the tower again. Struggling to keep their balance, they waited for what seemed to Tali the longest minute of her life before a pair of lights crested the side of the building. They ran for them, and as they approached, she could make out the form of a larger skycar. It slowly turned to the side, its hatch opening to allow them all to jump in. Thane jumped in first, followed by Jacob. Just as Tali stepped up to board the shuttle, the roof buckled, throwing her to the side. She tumbled and rolled across the uneven roof, panicking as she came closer to the ledge. She felt the building moving beneath her, as if the whole tower were collapsing, felt the edge of the building travel underneath her body, and then air as she flew off the edge.

Before she had time to even scream, she stopped falling, her body wrapped in a corona of blue. Looking back toward the shuttle, she could see Jacob hanging out of the side of the skycar, his hand stretched out to her and ringed in biotic energy. He pulled his hand back, letting the rooftop find her again, and she scrambled to her feet, rushing to the skycar and jumping into the cabin.

" _Keelah_ , thank you, Jacob. I…I don't even…" she trailed off, still processing everything that had just happened. To his credit, the man simply smiled at her as Liara pulled the skycar away from the building, a muffled _"By the Goddess!"_ floating back into the cabin as the towers began to crumble beneath them.

"Hey," he began reassuringly, "we're on the same team, aren't we?" She held his gaze for a long few seconds before nodding, and he smiled again, looking back out the shuttle before speaking. "Orders?"

Tali moved to the front of the small ship, next to Liara, looking out the viewport at the rapidly decaying Dantius Towers. Tower Two, which they'd originally gained entrance through, had collapsed on itself, the already under-construction visage further twisted with fire and explosions. "Take us around the perimeter, we need to find Shepard and Samara." The man nodded, flying the shuttle in a tight series of circles around the towers. Not seeing anything, her nerves began to fray, but she remained determined. Shepard always made it out. He always did.

As if in answer to her thoughts, a massive explosion blew a hole through the wall of tower one leading out onto the connecting bridge. This explosion wasn't of red fire, however, but of purple biotic energy. An asari woman clad in all black flew backwards back out onto the bridge, but was on her feet in an instant, preparing another biotic attack as Samara stepped out through the hole that had been created.

"There! Bring the ship in, Liara; we need to get them out of there before the whole thing comes down!"

* * *

"You could have stayed with your sisters, Morinth! You could be safe, at peace!" Samara closed slowly on a retreating Morinth. John kept his rifle trained on her, but he'd been a soldier for a long time, seen a lot of fights start and finish; and that blast through the wall had ended this fight, whether Morinth knew it yet or not. She limped backward across the long bridge as she spat her words back at her mother.

"So that's the reason? Because I embrace what I am, I have to die?" She flung a biotic attack at Samara, who deflected it while launching one of her own as she replied.

"You knew the path you chose, Morinth! You forced my hand!"

"You could have just left me alone, **mother**!"

Their biotic fight raged on, John trying to keep Morinth in his sights, and then all three were thrown to the ground of the bridge as the first tower began to collapse, buckling under the damage of multiple placed explosions. Its top began to lean over, eventually breaking off from the base and crashing down, landing on the ruined and unfinished top of tower two. Glass shards and debris rained down onto the bridge where the two asari still fought, biotic barriers keeping them from being shredded instantly, and in the moment of chaos, Samara leaped forward, swatting away a projected attack and knocking her daughter to the ground. She leaned over her, speaking loudly over the crashing debris.

"Morinth, please! Come with me, don't make me do this!"

"No! I am the future of the asari! I will **not** be hidden away in some monastery because **you** and everyone like you are afraid to admit that fact! I'll die first; and I'll make **you** kill me! Can you live with that for the rest of your life, mother? Knowing that my death came at your hands?" A moment of silence passed between the two, and John looked up at the whining of an incoming skycar's engines, its side hatch open, Tali waving frantically for him to climb aboard.

"Samara!" he yelled to her, as the towers continued to crumble around them, the bridge swaying with every new explosion below. She continued to stare down into the face of her daughter as she replied to her.

"If this is the path you choose…I will have to find a way." Samara held her hands outward, creating a huge biotic field around herself. Storage and weapons crates all across the bridge began to slowly levitate and float towards her. Finally she raised her hands high in the air, and shoved them towards the prone figure of her daughter. Every crate flew in a direct line towards her, and John watched as they all collided into the asari, whose scream was cut off by the onslaught. Samara stood still for a long moment, her hands still outstretched, before allowing them to drop to her sides.

"Samara, we need to go **now**!" He called to her, and she turned to look back at him, pain radiating from her eyes as she nodded. She ran across the bridge towards him, dodging large pieces of debris as she closed with the ship. She leaped up onto the floor of the shuttle, and John followed her, closing the hatch behind him as Liara steered the shuttle away. The cabin was quiet, and after a long moment he turned to her.

"I'm sorry, Samara. No parent should have to bury their child, much less do what you had to." The woman simply stared at the floor of the shuttle for a moment before replying quietly.

"I have chased her for three hundred years, Shepard. And over the course of all that time, I came to the realization that she was not my daughter. Not anymore." Her eyes raised to meet his, wet with tears but holding an expression of steel. "I didn't kill my daughter today; I killed the monster she had become." He nodded in response, and her eyes returned to the floor.

Their shuttle ride back to the Normandy was taken in silence, the only sounds being the ship's engines, and the call of emergency shuttles flying back towards the ruined towers.

* * *

"I'm glad everyone made it out safely." Liara asked the question calmly, but John could hear the worry in her voice. They had made it out safely, and after everyone had been situated aboard the ship, John had sent out the call for all crew to return to the dock. Deciding that would take an hour or two, he headed back into Nos Astra with Liara at her request.

"Yea; some of us with more scars than others…" he replied, thinking about what Samara had done.

"Well, I suppose that's all we can hope for with the work we do." He nodded to her, and she rounded the desk, picking up a small box and a datapad as she did. Holding the items, she walked over to stand in front of him. "I wanted to give you these earlier, but it seemed a little…crowded." She handed him the box first, and he opened it, seeing what was inside as she told him.

"Your old tags. They were on you when I found you. It's almost…amazing…how well the Alliance tech held up against…well, a full-blown atmospheric re-entry."

"Yea…" he trailed off, holding the tags aloft by their chain. They were charred, but when he tapped the button on the side of the small metal frame, his holographic information still winked into existence within them. After a moment, his eyes found hers again. "Thank you, Liara." She smiled weakly.

"You're welcome." He put the box down on her desk and began to activate the datapad. "No," she said softly, placing her hand over its unlocking interface. His eyes moved back to hers, and she continued. "This…has information that I spent a long time trying to find, just…just in case they did manage to bring you back. It's for you, to give you a sense of peace before you head out on whatever your current mission entails. But until that moment, I fear all it will do is distract you."

"That cryptic, huh?" She gave him a small smile, but her tone remained serious.

"Truth be told, I had debated whether or not to give it to you once I uncovered it; but I decided you had… _have_ …a right to know. But please, Shepard, don't look at it until everything is ready, until you're heading for the relay and there's nothing else to wrap up." He nodded at her, stowing the datapad in the back of his armor.

"Alright, I'll hold onto it until then."

She nodded, then stepped forward, embracing him, and he returned the gesture. "Be careful out there, Shepard," she spoke softly. "I wish I could go with you." She stepped back, and he replied.

"I've got room on the Normandy."

"I'm sure you do, but I'm working with something extremely personal and very dangerous at the moment. I have to stay here, but I promise I'll forward anything I find out that could help you."

"I appreciate it, Liara. But I'm going to need you again when the Reapers come."

"And when they do, I'll be ready to fight, Shepard." He nodded to her, and their eyes held each other for a long moment, all the history between them being relived as each silently said goodbye to the other in case it was the last time they spoke. And then he left, heading back to the Normandy, wondering the whole time what was on that datapad. By the time he reached the ship, he'd pushed the wondering firmly out of his mind; he had a lot of work still to do, and thinking about it wouldn't do him any good.

As he approached the Normandy at her dock, he saw Miranda standing at the edge of the access ramp, waiting for him. He jogged to meet her, and she began their conversation by calling to him as he approached.

"Commander, all crew are back aboard, as are the recruits you picked up here, and we're ready to go at your notice."

John stopped on the ramp, looking around and taking in Illium once more before turning back to look at her. "Alright then, tell Joker to get us airborne, and I'll go see where we're headed next." She nodded, stepping back into the ship and crossing into the bridge. He walked down the long corridor and through the CIC, nodding to Kelly as he passed by the galaxy map. Stepping into the elevator, he pressed the key for Deck One and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

The doors opened into pitch black, the only light being the blue of the fish tank. He chuckled to himself as he walked past it; still empty. Pulling off his armor, leaving him in just his shirt and shorts, he dropped the pieces to the ground before walking back up to where his personal terminal sat. Pulling up his inbox, he froze as he felt hands resting on his shoulders. Recognition hit him, and he smiled, leaning back in the chair and looking up into her welcoming white eyes, brighter than they had ever been in the darkness that surrounded them both.

* * *

"Damn it!" Rael'Zorah slammed his fist into the thick viewport that separated him from the geth platform within. The attack on its communications systems had failed, as had all the other attacks so far; the machine had simply allowed its systems to fail while simultaneously recovering from archive. It had been unable to communicate with the other unit in the room for approximately half a second before being fully functional again.

" _Admiral Zorah?"_ The voice of one of his fellow researchers came through his earpiece, and he shut his eyes in frustration before replying calmly.

"I'm sorry, Taeric'Nara, there are other pressing matters that are concerning me, I've been allowing them to influence my disposition."

" _I understand, sir. Would you like to stop here for today? I don't know that we'd have time enough to reconfigure the platforms and set up another attack anyway."_

He nodded as he spoke. "Yes, that will be fine. Is everyone staying on the Alarei again tonight?"

" _I believe so, admiral. It seems most of the research time has taken a liking to staying here while we work."_

"Alright, then. Shut down the platforms, initiate the security protocols, and get some sleep."

Rael cut the transmission, stepping away from the viewport with one last look for the accursed machines within, and shaking his head in frustration as he turned to walk down the hallway toward his quarters aboard the Alarei. He was frustrated about the lack of any significant progress on their geth attacks, but more so at Tali's defiance. It would be one thing if she'd argued with him as her father, but when he invoked his authority as her fleet admiral and she still refused his orders…

He fumed behind his visor as he stalked the hallways toward his quarters, finally reaching them and unlocking the door. Stepping inside, he let the panel slide shut before slowing his pace, circling around to the chair behind his small desk, the chair that had become his most hated enemy aboard this ship, and sat down in it, wincing at his back's cries of displeasure. Almost as soon as he was seated, his omni-tool chimed, and he sighed as he read the name of the caller. Tapping to accept, he closed his eyes and steeled himself.

" _Rael, Han'Gerrel just gave me the news, you can't be serious!"_

"She disobeyed an admiral's direct order, Shala. Her time with Commander Shepard is making her flippant about our rules, and I intend to send her a message she won't forget."

" _Sending a message is one thing, but planning to send a team of marines to strong-arm her into coming back to the fleet is just cruel. Tell me you're not going through with it."_

Rael leaned back, stretching in the uncomfortable chair, trying to bleed out all the stress he felt into the surrounding room. "Of course I'm not going through with it, Shala. Han was the first person I saw after our conversation, I spoke out of anger. Still, she needs to understand the chain of command, something she's clearly not being exposed to enough in her current environment…" On the other end of the line, Shala'Rann chuckled softly.

" _Sometimes I think I'll never understand you, Rael'Zorah. You've never actually met Commander Shepard, the only veritable evidence you have of his actions are his selfless rescuing of your own daughter on two separate occasions, and he's acclaimed by the galaxy as the hero of the citadel, a renowned enemy of the geth and model Alliance soldier. He's sometimes bent the rules to get the job done, but so have you and Han. Where in all of that information lies any cause to call him a bad influence?"_

Rael leaned forward again in the chair, resting his arms on his desk, shaking his head with frustration. "I don't know, Shala. Something just feels…off…about the whole thing. I don't doubt that Shepard is a valiant soldier; his reputation precedes him in that manner. But what if she spends enough time away from her people that she decides not to come back? _Keelah_ , Raan, what if she starts bonding with him?"

There was a short pause on the other end of the line, but he chalked it up to Shala just being surprised by the outlandishness of the suggestion. _"We don't even know if that's possible, Rael. And as for her possible abandoning of her own people, I don't really think that's a possibility at all, do you?"_

"No, I suppose not. It's just…" he trailed off, looking into the far corner of the room that held the holo-image of his wife. Shaking his head, he continued. "It's nothing. I just have a bad feeling about the situation, that's all."

" _Well alright. If that's all, then I'll let you get back to your work."_

"Thank you," he replied, and the relay cut out. His eyes dragged back over to the face-down holo despite his attempts to ignore it, and he shut his eyes tightly before whispering to the empty room. "You were right, Tali. About everything. I pushed you away to stop the pain, and now I'm a stranger to my own daughter. You may never be able to forgive me for what I've done to you, and I couldn't blame you if you never did. Still, at least I can give you our home world back; I can stop the geth. For you, and for your mother…" He folded his arms together on the desk in front of him, resting his head on top of them, and sleep quickly overtook him.

* * *

Test Bay 2 stood quiet and dark, all of its scientists and researchers off to the ramshackle quarters aboard the ship. The lone platform stood inactive, the runtime inside broadcasting its message once again. No response came. Following its programming loop, the platform broadcast again.

Reply.

Another platform, sixty-two point five meters away, in a separate testing bay, replied to the signal. Its platform's armor and, more importantly, weapon systems were at 100% integrity, if offline. It had no motor functionality, but that could be repaired. The original runtime instructed the newly discovered platform to broadcast its own short-range signal.

Six replies.

The same command was sent to those six units.

Four replies.

Calculations flew through the machine's data core at the speed of light, thousands of probability outcomes based on the current known size of the ship's crew and the combat readiness of the units aboard. Concluding the results acceptable, it broadcast the lockdown override procedure it had learned those many nights ago, instructing all units to activate.

In a darkened test bay aboard the Alarei, a single optical sensor flared to life.


	22. The Deafening Quiet

***Author's Note***  
Hello again, readers! Sorry for the delay here, classes for  
summer have started up, and I've been trying to find time to  
write giant chapters! Yes, I do plan on finishing out the trilogy,  
in case anyone is wondering if I've drifted apart from it. I have  
not, and have big plans for it!

On a semi-related note, I'm in the early stages of plot outline  
for my first original fiction piece, which I'm going to be hosting  
on (slash)~venomred, FanFiction's sister site,  
in the coming weeks. It's entitled _The Blood Stone_ , features a story  
of demons and a brutal war with the underworld involving a "normal"  
guy, and it's sure to be a fun ride as I work on writing in a whole  
other style, and without and established universe. I'm hoping/looking  
forward to seeing you all give me scathing criticism!

Enjoy part 1 of the Collector ship mission, part 2 will be out very soon!

* * *

**The Deafening Quiet**

_He stands in the streets as they mill about around him. He tries to look at them, but they are nothing more than a moving haze, a blurry, ever-shifting outline of sentient forms moving down the path on which he stands. He thinks of moving forward, and he doesn't so much move as the world around him shifts..._

_He stands before a tall fountain, elegantly carved of a substance he doesn't recognize. Spouts of water erupt from various holes in its form, streams crossing and dancing around each other to create a silent symphony of liquid artistry. He is amazed at its intricacy, and at the same time not surprised. He feels a familiarity with it, as if he's seen it every day for his entire life, but continues to be marveled at every new passing._

_The buzzing sound from before reasserts itself…or had it been there all along? He turns, seeking the source, but finding nothing. It's still far off, whatever it is; a quiet but almost rhythmic noise. He tries ignoring it, looking across the small plaza to a large, dome-topped building._

_In a moment he is standing inside the building, looking inward to a circular chamber, a tall row of seats defining its far curve. Above him, he notes with complete certainty, is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The ceiling is alight, thousands of small lights pulsing and glowing against an inky black. Again he feels as though he's seen this before, but it never fails to impress. He steps slowly, cautiously, into the middle of the chamber, where a symbol he does not recognize, and yet feels familiar with, lies emblazoned in the floor. Returning his gaze to the stars, he sees them all at once, taking in their glow…their shine…their beauty. For a mere second, he focuses his attention on one, glowing brighter than the others._

_Its light shines with fervor, and it reaches out to his eye, captivating his attention and holding him entranced. It pulses brighter and brighter, and though a part of him demands he look away from the corona of light, another part knows his safety, and he continues to watch. It intensifies, burning his eyes, and all else is washed out by its purity, cleansing his entire field of vision, leaving him blinded, yet at peace._

John's eyes snapped open, and he shot up in bed with a quiet gasp. The light had seemed…all-encompassing; and yet he had no idea what it meant. He'd felt the same weightlessness and lack of reality to his form while in the dream as he had the first time, and somehow, he thought as he quietly slid off of the bed and pulled a shirt on, they must be related. He crossed the dim, blue-lit room to the washroom, closing the door behind him before activating the light, and looked at himself in the mirror. Nothing was amiss, and he noted with some satisfaction that the scars from his…operation…were healing well. He hung his head with a sigh, turning on the water and splashing his face a few times before drying it with a towel.

"EDI," he whispered, "have we had any word from the Illusive Man?"

 _"No transmissions have been sent to the Normandy since before our stay on Illium, Shepard,"_ came her equally-hushed, synthesized reply. _"I will alert you the moment any new transmission of priority three or higher is received."_

He nodded silently in response, turning off the light before silently returning to stand beside the bed, smiling at what he saw there. She lay curled up on her side, her translucent visor uncommonly dark as she slept. Looking up, John could see out of the skylight viewport, showing him the inky black of space and the stars that dotted it. Two years he'd slept and let the galaxy spin without him; two years he'd been dead in her mind. His eyes found her again and a frown slid onto his face. It couldn't have been helped, he told himself, he hadn't been in control of how long Cerberus had taken rebuilding him. But he'd found her again, however unlikely, and had finally been able to say the things he'd meant to before everything went wrong. And once this was all over…

But would it ever be over? If they managed to make it through the Omega 4 relay, defeat the Collectors on their home ground, and somehow make it back through…then find a way to convince and unite the entire galaxy against the reapers…and **win** …then what?

"I'll take her home world back, by myself if I have to…" he heard himself whisper into the darkness. He'd thought it as well, but somehow saying it made it real; made it a promise to her sleeping form. She deserved nothing less, and he'd both seen and heard enough miserable treatment of her people for mistakes made three centuries ago to let them keep living without a place of their own for a second longer than he had to. Still, as much as he told himself it was for the quarians, for an entire people who had been mistreated and shunned, he knew it was for her. He reached out silently, touching her shoulder with his hand, and she stirred in her sleep, but did not wake. Smiling, he crossed the room to the lift, letting the doors close before he spoke to the air inside.

"EDI, list crew members currently on duty and at their post."

 _"Total count: Four. Helmsman Moreau, Doctor Chakwas, Engineer Daniels, and Operative Taylor. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay is off-duty on the bridge, and the justicar Samara is currently meditating in the Starboard Observation Deck."_ He nodded silently, pressing the key for Deck Three and letting the lift descend. Its doors opened a moment later, and he stepped out to round the corner, nearly running into a Cerberus crewman on his way back from the shower. The man stepped deftly out of the way with a muffled " _Sir,"_ which John nodded to before continuing onward towards the sealed doors at the end of the hall. Hesitating a moment outside the door's access panel, he cleared his head and pressed it, stepping into the room and letting the doors closed behind him.

"Shepard," her voice greeted him, though it sounded far away, "I had wondered when you would come." She sat cross-legged and wreathed in biotic power in front of the large viewport that looked out onto the same star-specked black he had been gazing into not long ago, and he approached slowly, standing beside her.

"If…it's a bad time, I can come back…" he trailed off, and a moment later the blue aura around her winked out, and her eyes opened, finding his in an instant.

"No, I would welcome the company, though truth told, it has been a long time since I spoke plainly with another. Too long, most would say."

He smiled as he sat down cross-legged next to her, staring out into the black as he thought about how to ask any of the questions that were on his mind. A long silence hung between them, and after a moment, Samara spoke again.

"When humans became known to the greater galaxy, I spent the better part of six months poring over your peoples' cultures, histories, biology...everything one could learn about you at the time. You fascinate me." John arched an eyebrow and turned to her.

"How so?"

"For being a species so far removed from the galactic stage until the Relay 314 Incident and Shanxi, you are remarkably like every other sentient species in the galaxy. Throughout your history, both individually and in group structures, you crave and seek power over others of your kind; and then once you achieve that power, you cannot fathom how to wield such a force, and collapse under the weight of your own accomplishment."

"So we fascinate you not because of some certain characteristic or trait, but because we continue to confirm this long-standing observation you have of other species?"

She smiled. "Something like that, yes." She looked back into the stars for a long moment before she continued. "You wonder what I am; not in name, but in action. You wonder what drives one to murder their own children, and you wonder if you can trust me."

John exhaled softly, pushing his legs straight out in front of him and leaning back on his hands. "Well, that's one way of putting it; but yes, pretty much everything you just said is a concern of mine."

"Do you remember the feeling you experienced when you stood in her presence?" The question sent a cold shiver through his spine. The helplessness, the incoherent train of thoughts, the burning desire to please, to obey… "That is her power, her weapon. To my people, the _Ardat-Yakshi_ are feared monsters. In reality, they are asari who suffer from a genetic condition that kills those they join their minds with. The condition also allows them the ability to manipulate the minds of those they come into contact with, slowly bending them to their will. The more they kill…the stronger and more adept they become." He nodded silently, beginning to understand.

"How rare is this condition? Morinth said that the _Ardat-Yakshi_ were the 'future of the asari'; does that hold any truth?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. Her condition is rare among us. When a young asari's powers begin to manifest, and she is identified as an _Ardat-Yakshi_ , she is given a choice: She is either taken to an ancient monastery to live out her days in peace and tranquility, or she is executed immediately."

"Doesn't sound like much of a choice," he said softly.

"The monastery is not a dreary prison cell, Shepard," she replied curtly. "Those who choose seclusion are seen as sacrificing everything for the greater good of our people; they are respected and treated well."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply—"

"No," she replied, holding her hand up, "it is understandable. The choice to live in seclusion is difficult, especially for an asari maiden just beginning to come of age. In some ways, I respected Morinth for her decision, even though she knew the path it would take her down."

"Having to chase her, having to destroy her…your own daughter…that's not a job you should have had to do."

"It was my responsibility. I shouldered the burden knowingly and willingly, though I admit it gave me no pleasure. Morinth was one of three daughters I raised. All of them beautiful…all of them _Ardat-Yakshi_."

"All of them? Samara…"

"I do not tell you this for your pity, Shepard. I simply want you to understand what I did, and why I had to do it." He nodded silently, returning his gaze to space. A long silence hung in the air, and at last he spoke.

"So what happens next?"

"I don't understand."

"What's next? After we stop the Collectors, come back through the Omega Four relay, big heroes…what's next for you?"

She smiled as she met his gaze. "You certainly don't lack confidence, Shepard." Looking back out into space, she let out a soft sigh. "Truthfully, I do not know. I will return to Lesuss to see my daughters, and then…perhaps I will stay with them there. They have lived alone for so long while I hunted Morinth; they do not deserve the lives they lead."

"If they're anything like you," he began, looking back at her, "I'm sure they understand the sacrifice they're making, and knowingly choose to make it."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving the black of space. "Yes. I'm sure they do." She turned to him again. "Thank you, Shepard, for speaking with me. I hope I have assuaged any doubts you had."

He nodded to her before standing. "We'll do this again sometime."

She smiled, the blue halo of energy silently exploding into life around her again as she closed her eyes. "I think I would like that."

He turned and left the room, moving back to the lift that would take him to the CIC. He spent the time waiting for it to complete the journey thinking about what Tali had told him as he'd held her close. The tower escape, the fall, Jacob's rescue…it was almost too much to believe, but Jacob had had every opportunity to protect her, and he'd taken them all. A small portion of his mind still wanted to hate the man, mainly for the logo on his uniform, but if Tali of all people could look past that and exonerate him, then so could he.

He stepped out of the elevator, turning to enter the Armory. Jacob stood farther off, his back to John as he worked on his rifle at a modification table. Entering the room, John couldn't help but grin at the half-eaten ration pack sitting on a table against the wall. Some habits died a little too hard. Leaning against the table, he took a long breath before speaking.

"I remember the worst time." It was almost a whisper, and to his credit Jacob didn't jump or grab at a weapon, but simply behind him, turning fully to John as recognition kicked in. He grabbed a nearby towel, wiping weapon grease off of his hands as he walked away from the modification bench.

"Sir?"

Smiling, John crossed to one of the viewports in the bulkhead, bracing himself against it with an outstretched arm as he continued. "The snow, Taylor. On Mindoir." Jacob leaned against a nearby weapons locker, nodding in understanding, a small smile appearing on his face. "It started in the afternoon; the sun was just barely still in the sky…flakes as big as your fingertip just…blanketing the ground." Beside him, the man chuckled.

"Yea, I know how those go. They're real pretty until they're stopping you getting where you're going. Then they're bastards, every single one of 'em."

John laughed quietly, stepping back from the wall and facing the man. "Yea. And my father…he knew it. My brother and I were just tearing around the yard, so excited you'd have thought we'd won a million credits; but he just stood there, staring up into the sky and shaking his head as it fell." He let the image stay in his head, cherishing it, holding it close, before speaking again. "Sure enough, we woke up the next morning, couldn't even open the front door of the pre-fab, had to climb out the roof hatch and spend all day shoveling it away. But I learned a valuable lesson that day."

"Always trust your dad's gut feelings?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle. "Six hours manual labor does wonders for calming a kid down about some snow." Jacob laughed aloud, and John followed, the noise feeling almost foreign to him. Slowly it died, and when silence hung between them again, he spoke quietly. "She told me what happened; what you did." Their eyes met, two battle-hardened men each understanding each other a bit more than they had before.

"Shepard, I joined Cerberus to protect humanity, to be able to rally at a moment's notice and just **fight** anyone who threatened our people. Since then…well I won't lie and say it's been all sunshine and rainbows…but I still know why I'm here. Still, after the Collectors are dust floating in space, after everything we're up against…" He held John's gaze with a stern look before replying, never blinking. "You look me in the eye, and tell me they're really out there. You tell me they're real; that they're coming."

"They are, Jacob." He returned the gesture, meeting the man's hard stare. "I can't prove it, not yet; but they're out there waiting, likely working through the Collectors, readying themselves for the invasion. The Collectors are our target now, but the war to come… it's going to hit the entire galaxy." After a brief moment, Jacob nodded and replied.

"Then it doesn't matter what flag any of us are flying right now. You, me, Tali, every alien aboard this ship; as far as I'm concerned, we're all on the same team." He outstretched his arm, and John recognized the way he held his hand; palm open, fingers spread. "No enemy left standing," he intoned; the beginning of the N7 creed.

John reached out, grabbing his forearm as Jacob's hand closed around his own, and replied in turn. "No ally left behind."

* * *

The red-orange glow of the massive star in front of him churned and eddied with gaseous volatility as he watched on calmly, swirling a glass of whiskey idly in one hand as he witnessed the star rage with solar energy. In his other hand he held the most recent update from his science team aboard the derelict reaper orbiting Mnemosyne. It was three weeks old. Taking a sip of the liquid in his glass, he looked back to the datapad with a frown. All evidence suggested indoctrination, but he couldn't be certain without proof. Still, three weeks with no contact, and what contact **had** last come was filled with half-sentences, incomplete scientific theories, and paranoia.

The door behind him slid open, and he placed the datapad to the side, turning his chair to face Kashon as he stepped in. His boots clipped the floor as he walked crisply to hand the report to the Illusive Man, and he nodded as it was taken from him, folding his hands at the small of his back and waiting. The Illusive Man opened the information as Kashon summarized.

"Six locations datamined from our extranet search, sir. We believe one of these six to be the location of the Shadow Broker's base, though all sources are shaky at best. I'm preparing our top reconnaissance teams for launch." The Illusive Man nodded, before handing the datapad back to the man.

"Use ships from the Ascendancy fleet, Kashon."

The man's face betrayed a hint of confusion. "Sir? All ships in the Ascendancy fleet are undergoing retrofit and upgrades to prepare them for deployment."

He waved his hand. "Then cancel operations on six of them and send them out. I don't want any ship associated with Cerberus to be seen doing recon work in those regions. Furthermore, the implementation of Project Ascendancy is still being evaluated. Until such time as it receives the full go-ahead, we'll keep building it, but re-prioritize for mission-critical tasks such as this."

Kashon nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll make the call immediately." He turned and strode quickly from the room, and the door slid shut behind him. The Illusive Man stared at the closed door for a moment before turning back to the star. _Implementation still being evaluated?_ he thought to himself with disbelief. Had he really just said that? His face tightened in frustration as he gazed back into the burning ball of gas. He'd been too... _conflicted_...about the project lately. With everything it was costing him, with all the plans he'd set in motion already...it was too late now. No time for second-guessing, or hesitation.

His message terminal chimed, interrupting his train of thought, and when he accepted the communication, Kashon's voice came through.

_"Sir, as I was making the call to pull ships from Ascendancy, we received and incoming distress call. It's signatures are turian, but it was sent directly to encrypted Cerberus channels. It claims to have damaged and disabled a ship matching the profile of a Collector cruiser, the location is uncharted, between known systems on our map."_

He immediately dismissed the legitimacy of the message. No ship, turian or otherwise, could have disabled the Collector vessel. In addition, no one outside of Cerberus had ever hacked their comm security systems. No one until, it seemed, the Collectors.

"It's bait," he replied plainly, and Kashon's voice responded.

_"I came to the same conclusion, sir. Should I have the team scrub the comm channels, move to one of the contingency setups?"_

He spent a long moment staring at the star. It was a trap, the ship was certainly feigning being disabled, but if Shepard could... _No,_ he thought sharply. Shepard was their only asset against the Reapers, and bringing him back once already had been, in itself, a miraculous undertaking. Still...the possibility of learning about their enemy, and possible Reaper connections was too great.

"No, Kashon," he replied finally. "Send me the coordinates of the signal and carry on."

_"Understood, sir. Transmitting them now."_

* * *

"Fall back to the main access point!" Rael'Zorah cried out over the din of gunfire as two more of his team dropped dead in front of him; their suits perforated with weapons fire from the geth platforms flowing into the hallway in front of them. The rest of his team complied, falling back in formation around the corner they had previously defended. As they moved backwards through a set of access doors, one of his technicians rigged it to shut and lockdown as the last of them passed through. The doors slammed shut, the access icon turning red as Rael took a break, kneeling to assess a suit breach he'd taken in the fight.

They had come online. The thought still gave him chills, even with it happening all around them. The geth had networked, and torn through two-thirds of his science team as they had slept or scrambled to mount a defense. How long had they prepared, studied, allowed themselves to be tested on just waiting for the opportune moment? He shook his head; it didn't matter now. Looking over his shoulder, he gazed up the stairs to the main archival and communications center as two quarians came rushing out, running forward to kneel next to him.

"Admiral Zorah," the first replied, breathless, "we've disabled all outgoing communications via the ship's internal systems, and erected containment firewalls. Whatever they do aboard the Alarei, the geth won't be able to access any other ship's systems." He nodded, and the other quarian spoke up.

"Sir...should we activate the distress beacon?"

"Absolutely not," Rael replied instantly. "Whatever happens here, the nature of our experiments must not be unveiled. If the geth overtake us...we blow the reactor core." A moment of silence hung between Rael and the quarians with him before he continued. "A freak explosion on a ship this old will be tragic, but not unbelievable. We all joined this project to help the quarian people, but if they discover what we've done in the name of that goal...I fear misunderstanding will tarnish our memories." Slowly, they all nodded.

"Still," Rael continued. "That isn't the plan at the top of the list. If we can take out the geth, re-secure the ship, we can still contain this before anyone involved is exposed to any political blowback."

"Sir!" Rael looked forward again, across the hallway to where another of his technicians held up his omni-tool. Its holographic interface had tapped into the Alarei's security camera network, and the scene that played out was terrifying. Rael looked on silently as the man explained. "They're…they're stripping the ship down, using it to make more of them… _Keelah_ , they've already doubled in numbers…" A long moment of silence hung in the hallway as the small team of quarians all came to the same conclusion: None of them were going to make it off of the Alarei. After some time had passed, Rael spoke, his words almost a whisper.

"Then get me access to the reactor core controls; I want them ready at a moment's notice. We make our stand here. When they come, we'll fight them with everything we have. And should we fall, may the Ancestors watch over us…"

A hushed round of " _Keelah se'lai"_ trailed throughout the hallway, men and women accepting their deaths, but willing to fight to the last for their people.

* * *

"So it's just…out there. Disabled," Garrus summarized as he re-adjusted one of the gauntlets on his armor. John had called the entire team together in the Conference Room to prepare for this mission, and had been briefing them as they readied. "We're good, Shepard; but not **that** good." John nodded, turning to Jacob with an arched eyebrow, the silent question asked.

"The turians have the best armed fleet in the galaxy, but even if they caught the Collector ship unaware…it's a damned miracle they disabled it."

"Or a readied trap," Miranda added, looking down the sight of her heavy pistol. "We **have** accepted the likelihood that it's a trap, right?"

"Yea," John replied, smirking at her comment, "we have. But we don't have any information other than what the Illusive Man sent us. So until we learn anything new, let's expect the latter and hope for the former." Around the table, heads nodded in agreement, weapons locked into place, and eyes met his own. "Joker?"

 _"We're approaching now, Commander."_ The pilot's usually assured voice held a tone of uncertainty as he replied. _"I can make out the turian ships docked onto the ship but…no hails or life signs coming from them."_

"Land us as close as you can to them," John called out, "we'll get in there and find out what happened to them."

 _"Aye aye."_ The channel cut out, and he looked around the room at his crew. They all looked back at him, ready to move out.

"Alright, let's get down to the Kodiak and figure out how the hell the turians managed to take this ship down."

Ten minutes later they all sat, somewhat crowded, in the Kodiak as it hurtled through cold space towards the massive ship that hung silhouetted against the planet in whose orbit it hung. John looked out the viewport as they approached, seeing both turian frigates Joker had mentioned; both unlit, devoid of life. The sight sent a slight shiver down his spine, but he shrugged it off, turning back into the cabin as the shuttle entered a small alcove in the ship that they could use as a hangar. As the team filed out, John took point, leading the group forward to an access hatch that stood ajar and off of its tracks.

"Well, whoever came in those frigates," he mused quietly as he examined the door, "they at least got this far…" Motioning to Grunt, John grabbed one of the door's sliding panels, heaving it backwards with all of his combined natural and artificial might. Together, they pried the doors open far enough to admit the team, and show a perfectly split hallway on the other side. He turned to face the team.

"Alright, we've got two paths here. It's risky splitting up, but we need to get the most we can out of the situation. Garrus, take Kasumi, Jacob, Mordin, and Zaeed down the left hallway. Tali, Thane, Grunt, and Miranda will come with me."

"And what do you want me to do, Shepard, hold your fucking coat?" Jack's voice called from the back of the crowd. "I've been itching to crack some skulls." Beside him, John could hear the low rumble of krogan laughter, and even Zaeed smiled as he looked over his rifle.

"I want you and Samara here, with the Kodiak," he replied, holding up a hand to halt her immediate protests. "If this **is** a trap, they're likely to know where our ship is docked; the last thing we need while we're divided is a Collector ambush waiting for us at the Kodiak."

"A sound plan, Shepard," Samara said, nodding her approval. Jack shrugged, walking back to the dropship and leaning against it. John looked to everyone once more, getting nods of approval and understanding.

"Alright then; move out, keep in radio contact, and tread carefully. Be ready to double-time it back here if shit hits the fan."

The group broke off into their teams, and John moved right, down a winding tunnel crafted out of what looked like rock but somehow felt more…organic than that. They moved in silence, weapons at the ready as they followed the eerie hallway deeper into the quiet vessel. After what seemed like a lifetime, John's earpiece buzzed with EDI's synthetic voice.

_"Shepard, I've matched the EM signatures of this vessel with known Collector ships, and received a match. This is the vessel you encountered on Horizon."_

"Maybe the defense towers softened it up for the turians, then."

 _"Possibly,"_ Garrus' voice replied on the open channel, " _But even so, a ship like this shouldn't have been able to be taken out by two frigates; unless those turrets were a hell of a lot stronger than we thought."_ John nodded silently, and the path before them opened into a wider area.

"Oh my god…" Miranda whispered softly as they entered. The room was set up in a circular fashion, with what John assumed were medical terminals and operating tables placed incrementally around the outer ring. In the center of the room, a tall spiral ramp jutted upwards into the air, and as his eyes followed it, he could see hundreds of the pods they had found on Horizon attached to the walls. Light failed him before he could see the ceiling of the spire, and he returned his gaze to the ground as the others continued to stare upwards, crossing to the nearest of the terminals and activating it.

Data and diagrams flooded the haptic interface in a second, and he read through it all while contacting the Normandy. "EDI, I'm patching you through to this terminal. It looks like medical data, experiments they may have been running…pull what you can from it while we're here."

_"Understood, Shepard. Extracting data archives now."_

The rest of the group gathered around the terminal, looking over his shoulder before returning to keeping an eye on the room. Tali stayed at his side, however, and when he glanced to her he could see her head tilted in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just…you told EDI what was on the terminal."

He turned to face her fully as he replied. "Well yea, it's written right there on the screen." He gestured over his shoulder with a thumb, and she glanced at it again before replying to him in a whisper.

"I can't read that screen, John." A cold pit settled in his stomach as he turned back to it, reading and understanding the screen's content as clear as if it had been written in English. In fact, he realized suddenly, he hadn't thought twice about it; he had just read it as if it **had** been English. As he stared at the terminal in disbelief, she continued even quieter than before. "So the question…is what makes you able to read the Collectors' writing?"

"I…I don't know…" he stuttered, still looking at the terminal, still understanding everything written there. In an instant he felt her hand on his wrist, and he looked back to her, almost seeing her worried expression despite the obscuring visor it hid behind. Shaking his head, he called back to the Normandy. "EDI, what do you have?"

_"I am still processing the majority of the information, but some data embedded in these files suggest that the Collectors were not running tests solely on humans, but also on members of their own species. It seems they were searching for genetic comparison."_

"Shepard," Thane's raspy voice called out from across the room. "I believe this may be what you're looking for…" The group converged on his location, beside a table which held an open pod. Inside it laid a Collector, the terminal next to it displaying its genetic makeup and other relevant data. John nodded to Thane, holding up his omni-tool to transmit the terminal's contents.

"We found one, EDI. I'm transmitting the rest of the data to you now."

 _"Data received; analyzing."_ A long pause hung over the communication channel before the AI responded again. _"The data reveals something astonishing, Shepard. Collector DNA is composed of a quad-strand structure, identical to traces found at many ancient ruins. Only one race is known to have this structure: the Protheans."_

John's eyes widened with realization, and he looked back to the Collector in the pod as the visions from the beacon raced through his mind again. Machines slaughtering Protheans…no… **subduing** them. Mechanical instruments ripping apart flesh and blood…no… **repurposing** them. Every scene, every vision of carnage and brutality he had witnessed, had been misinterpreted. Unconsciously, he took a step back from the Collector, catching himself on the edge of the terminal.

"My God…" he said softly, still reeling from the revelation, "The Protheans didn't vanish, they weren't wiped out by the Reapers…they were enslaved by them…"

 _"These are no longer Protheans as we know them, Shepard,"_ the AI replied. _"Their genes show signs of extensive genetic rewrite. The Reapers have repurposed them to suit their needs. I have already matched over 2000 alleles to recorded fragments. This Collector likely descends from a Prothean colony in the Styx Theta cluster, but there are signs of extreme genetic alteration: three fewer chromosomes, reduced heterochromatin structure, elimination of superfluous junk sequences…"_

 _"Monstrous,"_ Mordin's voice responded through the comm channel. _"Reapers replacing organic structures deemed unnecessary with tech; reverse engineering basic foundation of Prothean existence; destroying very fabric of organically created species! Turning them from a sentient lifeform into…aberrant slaves."_

"Whatever they are…" John began slowly, "they're not Protheans. Not anymore." He met Tali's gaze, and she nodded. "I wouldn't want to live as a mutated slave; killing a Collector is probably doing it a favor. Still, they work for the Reapers now, and we still have to stop them."

 _"Damn straight,"_ came Zaeed's voice, " _They're not doing that shit to us!"_

"Move out," John replied, "let's find what we need and get the hell out of here before the Collectors come to salvage this ship." The team moved forward through a far door in silence, passing through more chambers of terminals, tables, and pods.

"Look at all of them," Miranda whispered. "There must be thousands of them…"

"How many do you suppose have people inside?" Tali asked hesitantly. John gritted his teeth behind his helmet. He'd failed on Horizon, let them been taken. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"Too many."

* * *

Garrus swung his rifle to the side, aiming it at an empty space in the room where he could have sworn he'd heard a noise not a moment before. Shaking his head to clear out the paranoia, he led his team onwards into the ship, still thinking over the information they'd just revealed about the Collectors. An entire race, a whole species of people, subjugated to work for the Reapers…it was bad enough that it happened to the Protheans, but now they were trying to put humanity through it too? His eyes unconsciously found her; or rather, where he thought she was. He would catch a faint glimmer of her here and there, a rippling in the air that he knew were her cloaking generators. Again he shook his head; letting himself get distracted by things that couldn't…shouldn't…he had no idea what to make of things.

Pressing an access panel on the door they had come upon sent the two halves sliding away from each other. The deeper into the vessel they'd gotten, the more it seemed actual recognizable tech had been integrated with the otherwise natural-esque design of the ship. Still, so far they had only encountered more of the strange pods, no terminals or operating equipment the likes of which Shepard had found. As the doors snapped open, a vicious stench assaulted his nostrils, and he recoiled for a moment before stepping in.

The room was a graveyard; human bodies were piled atop each other in many separate mounds, twisted at odd angles, some with horrific expressions still plastered on their faces. As he looked up to the ceiling, he could see that the room was filled via many different ducts which deposited the bodies into the piles they saw.

"Fucking hell…" Zaeed muttered as they entered the room. "I've seen brutality in my day, but this…this is just disgusting…"

Mordin, seemingly unfazed, approached the nearest pile, opening his omni-tool and scanning over one of the corpses. Once he'd finished, he moved to another, then another, testing some ten bodies in sequence. Eventually he stood, turning back to Garrus as he showed them all the omni-tool data while transferring it to Shepard and the Normandy.

"EDI's report of testing parameters accurate; Collectors accessing vital systems in human bodies for comparative analysis with their own. Also performing…other tests."

"What 'other tests'?" Garrus asked hesitantly.

"Integration tolerance, neural override sensitivity, nervous system thresholds. Collectors attempted implanting majority of victims with apparent Reaper technology, testing for organic rejection levels. Discovered heightened levels of vaporized theracane in bloodstreams of all subjects."

 _"What is theracane, Mordin?"_ Shepard's voice called over their comm system.

"Extremely potent paralytic compound. Renders subject fully aware but incapable of movement. Same compound found in seeker swarm paralysis venom."

"I don't suppose it acts as an anesthetic as well…" Kasumi whispered, having decloaked beside the salarian."

"Paralytic only," he replied calmly. "Collectors…have no need for anesthetics in test subjects."

"Damn…" Jacob whispered in disbelief. A silence fell over them, and Garrus looked around at his team. Mordin, trying to remain professional but obviously shaken by the day's discoveries. Zaeed, rage spilling across his face. Jacob, calm yet unnerved. Kasumi…visibly shaken. Anger overwhelmed him, and he spoke coldly into their comm channel.

"When exactly do we get to start shooting these things again, Shepard?"

* * *

"Hopefully not today, Garrus," John replied into his comm link. The line went silent, and he silently exhaled behind his helmet's visor. Both teams were getting frayed; unnerved at the quiet and unsettled by the discoveries they'd found here. Still, they needed to get anything they could, while they could, and so he pressed onwards, leading his team up a steep hill as Joker's voice entered the channel again.

_"Shepard, you're not going to believe this. On a hunch, I had EDI compare this ship's EM signature to the ones backlogged by the original Normandy's systems. They're an exact match."_

"The same ship tailing me for more than two years? That's way more than coincidence."

_"Took the words right out of my mouth. Something's not adding up here, Shepard. Watch your back down there."_

The pilot's voice cut out as John led his team up an inclined hallway. The path still lay empty before them, and the lack of hostile forces was beginning to wear on his nerves. As they approached the top of the ramp, the team rounded a corner, and the sight beyond stopped him in his tracks.

" _Keelah…"_ came Tali's breathless whisper, a vocalization of all their thoughts. They'd stepped out onto a walkway that lay in the middle of a vast chamber, thousands of feet high and long enough that John couldn't see an end to it but for a faint glow in the distance that he assumed was the reactor core, looking as though it were miles away. Across every surface of the cylindrical chamber, more Collector pods sat attached, and still more spaces were empty, waiting for a pod to be brought in.

"They could take every human in the Terminus Systems and not fill the space in this chamber alone," Miranda thought aloud. A short silence hung in the air before she looked at John and continued. "They must be targeting Earth."

"How?" he replied, still looking around at the vast chamber before meeting her gaze. "With one cruiser? Even if they had a dozen ships like this one, the Collectors would never get close enough to Earth to abduct anyone."

"Earth's defenses are good, Shepard," she replied, "but no one knows what's beyond the Omega Four relay. For all we're aware, they could have a thousand ships like this one just waiting."

"Waiting for what, I wonder." Thane commented.

"Doesn't matter," came the krogan's rough reply. "They'll all be dead before it comes." He grinned wickedly, and John nodded to him, leading the team forward and onto a metal platform with an interface terminal. In the middle of the platform sat a control terminal, its interface green and ready for a command.

John approached the console, holding out his omni-tool and calling the Normandy. "EDI, I'm setting up a bridge between you and the Collector ship's interface. See if you can't get some information out of them, find out what happened to the turians."

 _"Data received; analyzing."_ Looking out over the chasm as the AI worked, John assessed their situation before turning back to his team, and opening their comm channel.

"Looks like we're at a dead end here. Once EDI is done accessing the data, we'll fall ba—" the platform buckled underneath them, sending his entire team tumbling to its surface. Scrambling to his feet, John hailed the Normandy again. "Normandy, come in! What just happened?"

 _"Massive power influx, Shepard,"_ Joker replied. _"All the lights are out, and there's some kind of siren going off from the CIC, but EDI says we're alright now."_

 _"I was able to reroute the majority of the pulse to non-critical systems, such as lighting and personnel terminals. Still, the power overload deployed was not a malfunction; it was malicious in intent. This console's data uplink was a trap."_ As if on cue, the pylons surrounding the platform, keeping it grounded, unlocked at once, and the floor beneath them rose up into the air, slowly drifting out over the impossible chasm beneath them. Every member of his team clutched at the terminal housings aboard the platform for support, and as it drifted further away from its dock, John could see other platforms racing up to meet them; platforms full of Collectors.

"Get down, enemies incoming!" They took what cover they could, and began firing on the drones from their small entrenchment. Garrus' voice crackled in his helmet.

 _"Shepard! We'll fall back to give assistance. Haven't seen anyth—."_ Gunfire in the background rang out, and the comm link cut out as the Collectors got closer.

"Right side! Stay down!" A monstrosity, composed of a dozen or more husks seemingly fused together, lumbered towards them as it relentlessly hurled biotic shockwaves in their direction. Grunt roared, leaping over his cover position and rushing towards the beast as Thane expertly sniped away drones that targeted the charging krogan. It threw out another shockwave, and Grunt simply barreled through it, his shields blowing away as he collided with the enemy. The pair went tumbling to the floor of the platform, and John led his team over the top, cleaning up the Collectors that remained before surrounding and finishing off the biotic amalgamation.

Grunt stood, wiping the thing's blood off of his armor, and his grin became a full-blown wicked smile as he looked over John's shoulder. In the distance, more platforms came flying towards them, with three more of the monsters standing at the ready.


	23. Hunted

***Author's Note***  
Collector Ship part 2! Also, some setup for the next  
chapter, which is in all likelihood going to be massive.  
Starting with the next chapter, and onwards to the  
Derelict Reaper and the end of ME2, we're going to  
start to get into territory that is massively different  
from ME2 canon, as we set up for a mind-bogglingly  
non-canon ME3 re-telling. Hope everyone's buckled  
in!

Enjoy this chapter, and please let me know what you  
think! As always, thanks for the reviews/PMs/comments,  
they are always appreciated and encouraged!

* * *

**Hunted**

"Down!" Jacob yelled, and Mordin ducked down in front of him as he unleashed a biotic wave that tore apart the five husks closest to them, and sent the ten behind reeling backwards. Before he could even get a grin off, however, the man was forced back down by the flying Collector's devastating beam. Garrus caught his gaze as he got back into cover, a nod of assurance as his shields recharged, and returned the gesture before springing up over his own cover spot and firing into the aerial enemy. Its beam ignited in his direction, and he dove to the left, rolling to his feet and running for another cover spot while firing at the machine. He found one just as the beam caught up to him, and it slammed into the rock outcropping he knelt behind, pieces and chunks flying off in every direction as it relentlessly fired. Frantically, he looked from side to side for anywhere else to find cover, but saw nothing. Before he could decide where to move, the rock behind him exploded in a shower of stone and pebbles, and his shields began screaming at him as the beam quickly destroyed them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sprinting for him. He turned to yell at her to get back into cover, but she was upon him in an instant, slamming into him and slapping an interface node on her omni-tool. An electric curtain rushed forward from their entangled form, staving off the beam and quickly turning from blue to red under its assault.

"Now!" she yelled, and Zaeed vaulted over his cover spot, hurling three grenades at once towards their foe. They landed directly in the beam only inches away from its origin on the creature's face, and the resulting explosion knocked it back into the wall. It crashed into the hard surface, completely impaired by the close-proximity blast, and Zaeed rushed to it, climbing atop its surface and firing point-blank into its embedded circuitry. After a moment, it collapsed, and the mercenary rolled off of it, gripping his weapon tightly and rushing to meet the others.

Garrus looked to Kasumi, grasping at words to say, but she simply smiled and nodded before helping him up and running with the others towards the door. It snapped open, revealing a hallway full of husks, and bullets flew again as they carved their way out and slowly made a path back to the shuttle.

"Form up, on me!" he yelled out to his team, and they quickly regrouped as they fired, forming a tight circle and covering all ranges of fire as they moved together. Had they not been in a life-threatening position, he thought with an inward smirk, he'd have been astonished at how well they worked together; having only recently met and never teamed up before. War did that to people, he thought as he fired, remembering his team again and allowing the memory to harden him.

"Enemy's numbers increasing, Garrus," Mordin called over his shoulder. "Recommend rapid assault towards shuttle!"

"My favorite kind," Zaeed said with a laugh, taking another handful of incendiary grenades off of his belt and hurling them forward into the husks, creating a blazing inferno of screaming enemies for their bullets to find targets in. Garrus covered his range while opening the comm channel again.

"Someone give me an update!"

* * *

It was artistic, to say the least. Powerful, deadly, incomprehensibly complex, but artistic. Samara couldn't help but allow a small smirk, the only real hint at any positive emotion since Morinth's death, to slip onto her face as she wove biotic powers in tandem with the small human woman beside her. Where one left an opening, the other filled it, without communication, just naturally. It was a sign of two biotics very well-versed in their craft; and where this young woman had learned so much in such a short time, Samara couldn't say. Still, it was impressive, and in some small manner, she reminded her—

"Hey are you fucking daydreaming or something?" The woman yelled, thrusting her hands forwards and ripping apart at a molecular level three of the altered humanoids that had been inches from reaching her. Samara snapped back to her senses, instantly chastising herself for being distracted in a fight, and thrust her own hand forward as well, projecting a wave that sent more of the abominations flying away from them.

"I…was distracted for a moment," she replied, back at full concentration and weaving death and destruction with the woman once again.

"Right. Well I didn't sign up to die out on some alien ship in the middle of nowhere because you were too busy remembering a fucking lake-side picnic, okay?" Samara felt her back straighten in indignation, and a scowl crossed her face as she continued the defense of the shuttle. After a moment, she spoke quietly.

"What your parents would think, to see the 'respect' you show others."

The woman screamed, rushing forward in a biotic charge, right into the thick of the husks. She whipped out in every direction with her powers, flaying their enemies where they stood, dozens of them falling at once to her onslaught. Raising a fist high, she built up a huge amount of biotic power into it before slamming it downwards, becoming the epicenter of a massive biotic wave. Samara's eyes widened at the incredible display of power, easily matching something she herself could be capable of, as every enemy standing was slammed against the wall and fell dead.

A sudden lull in the battle achieved, the young woman rounded on her, stalking across the battlefield and stopping inches away from her face. Samara met her gaze calmly, with the countenance of a justicar, but no small part of her was suddenly a bit terrified at this woman's potential. When she spoke though, it wasn't with foul language or an acerbic tone; it was quiet, pointed, and pained.

"My **parents**? Listen up, lady, because I'm only going to say this once. Cerberus were all the 'parents' I ever had, and in case it hasn't been made glaringly obvious to you already: they weren't that great. So unless your parents tortured you, drugged you, and forced you to slaughter other kids your age so some scientist could check off another column on a chart somewhere, don't talk to me about what they'd think." Without waiting for a response, she walked back to the shuttle, leaning against it and looking pointedly at the stone walls of the entrance platform on which they stood. Samara stood dumbfounded, unsure of what to say to something like that. She turned to the young woman to apologize, when their comm channel sounded again.

_"Someone give me an update!"_

"Garrus," she replied, "We are defending the shuttle from multiple enemies. They seem human but…aren't."

 _"Husks,"_ came his reply. _"And they most certainly aren't. Are you holding up?"_

"Yes, we're…" she trailed off, looking back at the young woman she felt she knew much better now. "More than a match for them."

_"Alright, we're making our way back to you, but stay with the shuttle. If anything besides husks comes through that tunnel, let us know."_

"Understood." The link cut out, and she turned fully to face the other woman. "Jack, I…" she was moving in a flash, thrusting her hand out towards Samara and releasing a blue orb that flew just over her shoulder. As she whipped her head around to follow it, Samara saw it crash into a group of husks and explode, sending them flying as a dozen more rushed in to replace them. She moved up to stand beside Samara as they both began firing off attacks again, her voice back to its usually cocky nature when she spoke again.

"Save it for the after-party."

It was in **no** small manner, Samara thought as she teamed up with the young human to defend their shuttle, that she reminded her of Morinth.

* * *

John roared as he swung his leg into the Collector's head, whipping it backwards as it connected and snapping the thing's spine, or whatever Prothean piece passed for a spine. He still shuddered to think of it; an entire race enslaved by the reapers, forced to do their will knowing your entire civilization tried to stand against them... _No_ , he thought firmly. Anything Prothean about them was already gone. As far as they were concerned now, the Protheans were just another civilization destroyed by the reapers, regardless of what form that destruction took.

Garrus and Samara's comm chatter had come through in his earpiece, but the battle had been vicious, the Collectors well-prepared trap armed to the teeth. As he looked around the interconnected platforms, however, he could see his team cleaning up and regrouping. Grunt, covered in the blood of the abominations, crossed to him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I was worried for a while that the first decision I'd ever made was a wrong one," he said with a grin. "But this…this is why I follow you, Shepard." John couldn't help but let a weary smile slip onto his face at the young krogan's enthusiasm, and he patted Grunt's shoulder as he nodded and stepped past him.

"This is Shepard. We've cleared out the platforms, and I don't think any more are coming. Garrus, can you make it back to the shuttle?"

 _"We're pretty bogged down, Shepard, but I think we'll make it,"_ came his reply, accentuated with bursts of gunfire and the muffled groans and screams of nearby husks. _"Haven't seen any Collectors yet, just husks and one of those things we saw on Horizon."_

 _"Shepard,"_ EDI's synthetic voice interrupted, _"you must manually re-establish my link to the platform console. I should be able to override its programming and lay out an escape route."_

"Sure thing, EDI," he replied, crossing the other platforms and back to the original terminal they had connected to. Holding out his omni-tool, he re-established the connection to the Normandy's systems. After a moment, her blue sphere sprang to life over the console's interface. The others gathered around him as she worked. Slowly, the platform reversed, disconnecting from the others before lifting higher into the air and moving off to the side of the large chamber.

_"I have taken control of the platform, and accessed a significant portion of the Collectors' internal databases as you fought them."_

"Good work," he replied as they floated towards a stone outcropping on a far wall. "Did you find anything useful?"

_"I found data that would help us successfully navigate the Omega Four relay. I also found the turian distress call that served as the lure for this trap. The Collectors were the source, which is unusual."_

"Why is that unusual? We were all pretty sure this was a trap going in, wouldn't the Collectors have been the ones to spring it?"

_"The problem lies in less obvious areas. Turian emergency channels have secondary encryption. It is present, but corrupted in the message. It is not possible that the Illusive Man would believe the distress call was genuine."_

"If the Collectors are working with the reapers," Tali began, looking over his shoulder, "they could have any number of ways to corrupt a message, make it look official."

 _"That is correct,"_ the AI agreed. _"In fact, the message appears genuine in all aspects from the Collectors' side. The suspicious aspect lies in its transmission. When the Illusive Man transmitted the signal to the Normandy, its transactional history was also passed into my databases. This transmission was sent directly to the Illusive Man's base."_

"My god…" Miranda whispered, and John turned to look at her with an arched eyebrow. "In order to get a message to that station, they'd have had to bypass every Cerberus encryption, firewall, and data integrity standard we have."

 _"Correct,"_ EDI replied. _"Cerberus keeps active intelligence reports on the security-compromising aptitude of every known alien species in the galaxy, and the sources used are more than credible. The turians are nowhere near to possessing the technological prowess to perform such large-scale infiltration. Thus, it is impossible that the Illusive Man would have seen this message as anything but a trap."_

"And he sent us right into it…" John whispered, clenching his fists. A thousand thoughts flew through his head, but they all came to a screeching halt at the sound of a weapon being drawn behind him. He spun to see Tali, her shotgun raised and trained on Miranda, who stood staring down at the platform beneath them, shaking her head slowly. She spoke, but did not look up.

"I…I didn't know. He sent me in with you, Jacob as well, without a word about what was really going on." Her eyes finally rose to meet his own, and there was a hardness in them, as if she expected what she thought was coming. "It's the truth, Shepard. I didn't know."

He stepped across the platform to Tali, putting a hand on her shotgun and lowering it. Her eyes burned as they met his, and she whispered furiously.

"She's been in direct contact with him this whole time; you honestly believe her?"

"We're in the middle of an enemy ship, surrounded by hostiles, and as far as she knows, we could be over here discussing who gets to put a bullet in her head." He paused to let it sink in. "Why would she lie now? What could she gain from it? Either we kill her, or we take her back to the Normandy and discharge every Cerberus crewman at the next habitable planet."

" _Keelah,_ John that's more than enough time for someone like **her** to think up a plan." He held her gaze, saw it soften as he did, and spoke softer than he had been.

"I don't think she's as much of a Cerberus loyalist as we'd like to think, Tali. If you really believe in the cause, you take the bullet at the end of the fight. She's either ducking out, or telling the truth; and either way…she's not a threat to us." After a moment, she let her gaze slide off of his eyes, over his shoulder to where Miranda stood tall, arms folded across her chest as she stared at the console. Nodding softly, she stowed the weapon, and he smiled as he spoke again. "I **will** get answers for this. And I know we can't trust Cerberus. But they can't trust us either, alright?" She met his eyes again and nodded. After a moment, he turned away from her, walking back to stand in front of Miranda. She met his eyes with her own, and nodded curtly.

"I'd prefer it be quick, Shepard." She spoke quietly, but for the first time since meeting her John heard genuine fear in her voice. No, he reaffirmed in his head, she wasn't a traitor to them, and she wasn't a die-hard loyalist. She was another human caught in the Illusive Man's insane plans, and he wasn't about to punish her for that.

"Miranda," he began with a smile, "you said you didn't know. I believe you." Her eyes widened slightly, and he turned away from her, signaling the team to move out as he stepped off the platform. As they moved, he spoke into their comm channel. "I need an update from everyone; and we need to get the hell out of here."

 _"Understatement of the century, Commander,"_ Joker's voice replied first. _"I think the Collectors just realized the trap isn't working, their ship is powering up. You've got to get out of there before their weapons systems come online; I'm **not** losing another Normandy!"_

 _"I do not have full control of their systems,"_ EDI added, _"but I will do what I can to delay the process. I have updated your heads-up display with a new route that should take you back to the shuttle."_

"Good, how is everyone else holding up?"

 _"The shuttle is secure, Shepard, but we are constantly fighting off the husks, and losing strength."_ Weariness was almost palpable in Samara's voice.

 _"We're on-track to hit them from the back, Shepard, but the going's slow."_ Garrus' response was again backed by the sounds of gunfire. _"Any help would be fantastic."_

"We're on our way, keep holding them off and we'll be there shortly." The channel cut out, and John rushed forward, the others in his wake. The halls were empty of any type of enemy, and they make quick progress along the path EDI had made for them. As they crossed the doorway threshold of the last chamber before a long hallway would take them to the ship, John felt shots glancing off his shields from behind. He stopped, turning mid-stride to fire, and heard the harsh _thud_ of the door slamming shut at his back. Whipping around, he realized what had happened just before his comm channel sprang into his head with Tali's voice.

_"The door cut us off! I'm working on overriding it now!"_

"EDI, can you help her out?" he replied, taking cover against the two drones that rained suppressing fire down on him from across the room.

_"I am currently fighting Collector firewalls on over eight thousand nodes. I am tasked to capacity."_

_"It's alright,"_ Tali responded frantically, _"I just need some time."_

John's mind raced as he traded fire with the drones. His fire caught one in the shoulder, staggering it back, and he took the opportunity, hammering down on the trigger and putting it down for good before ducking back into cover. "Is the hallway safe?"

 _"Yes, it's all clear right now,"_ Miranda replied quietly.

"Good. Then let Tali keep working on the door. The rest of you, get back to the Kodiak and help the others. We'll join you when she gets it overridden."

 _"Understood, Commander._ "

He nodded, having sent reinforcements, and then felt a frown slip onto his face. He hadn't noticed the other drone stop firing, but apparently it had. Raising his head to look over his cover position, he saw the Collector on its knees behind its cover spot, thrashing as radiant golden fissures began erupting across its body.

"Son of a bitch…" he muttered, leaping over his cover spot and firing heavily towards the enemy in hope to kill it before the process was complete. Just as hit bullets began to strike, it threw its head back, a biotic barrier exploding into place around it as it stood. Its eyes were aflame with golden energy, and it hurled dark biotic spheres at John as he dove for cover. The Harbinger drone continued to relentlessly assault his cover, wordlessly and menacingly coming closer and closer. Feeling the rock behind him crumble, John dove for another spot, firing off a few shots that slammed harmlessly into its barrier. Once in cover, he called out in anger. "I found out your dirty little secret: about the Collectors; or should I call them Protheans? Which do you prefer?"

"Their name is inconsequential. Their civilization fell before us, as will all civilizations."

"Yea? Well I think you'll find us a little harder to kill." He leaped over the cover spot as it crumbled under the harsh assault, charging at Harbinger as he brought his rifle up to fire. A black orb came screaming at him, and he rolled under it, coming back up with all of his momentum into a sprint that sent him barreling into the creature. It absorbed the impact, stepping back with the force. John threw a punch with his right arm, and his enemy grabbed it at the wrist, retaliating with one of its own. John grabbed his arm in turn, and the two stood deadlocked.

"You will not pose a threat to us; we are eternal. It is as Nazara told you: 'You exist because we allow it, and you will end because we demand it.'"

Face contorting in rage, John looked to his left arm. His hand held steadfast against Harbinger's readied attack, and his omni-tool sat at the ready. He winced at the thought of what he'd have to do to break the deadlock, and then spoke the command.

"Voice command: omni-tool runtime forty-seven." The orange interface on his arm began to shimmer as if it were rippling water, and he released Harbinger's hand, shoving his now-freed forearm into his enemy's face as the devastating punch landed in the front of his helmet. His visor shattered under the impact, sharp shards cutting into his face as he leaned away from the blow. Seconds later, however, his omni-tool emitted a sharp whine, the interface disappearing completely before a huge electrical pulse radiated outwards from his wrist. It arced across both of their bodies, and John let himself fall backwards, ripping off his helmet as the pulse overloaded his heads-up display inside.

Scrambling to his feet, he saw his enemy in a likewise-disoriented position. Harbinger had stumbled back, its drone's hands clasping at its face, where a huge electrical burn marred its brown flesh. John felt blood pouring openly down his face, and knew for a fact that his shields were completely out. Pushing his body, he sprinted again towards the drone, gripping his helmet tightly in one hand and swinging it around as Harbinger began to regain its senses. The attack connected with the side of the drone's head, sending its body twisting to the side in the process. Dropping his helmet, he grabbed the drone's shoulder and slammed his boot down into the side of its knee, snapping the bones within and forcing it to the ground. Swinging around behind, he swatted away a hand that raised a weapon to aim at him and wrapped his arms around the drone's head from behind. Squeezing tightly, he spoke to his enemy.

"I die on **my** terms, not **your** whim. You might want to tell the others that most races in this galaxy feel the same way." Without waiting for a response, he pushed all the effort he had left into his arms, snapping the drone's neck in one strong burst of effort. The golden fissures immediately winked out, and he let the body collapse to the floor of the ship as he grabbed his helmet and half-ran, half-limped towards the door. Tapping the comm link inside his helmet brought him only static, and so he rushed the final few feet, slamming his hand three times in succession against its surface.

On the last hit, the doors sprang open, and he nearly tumbled through the now-open doorway. Tali rushed from the control panel to catch and stabilize him, and her face was a frenzy of panic and fear as she met the gaze on his bloodied face.

"Later," he mumbled, and began to jog as best he could up the corridor. She fell in beside him, constantly watching him out of the corner of her eye as they ran. After a few seconds, she spoke into her helmet, to the rest of their team.

"I've got Shepard; we're on our way back."

* * *

"Good," Garrus replied to Tali as he dispatched the last of the husks around the Kodiak. Samara and Jack stood leaning against the shuttle, obviously exhausted, and obviously trying not to show it. He looked around at the rest of the team, all of them weary, and moved toward the shuttle, opening its side hatch. "Alright everyone, let's go; we need to be ready to move out when they get here." The others nodded; jumping into the shuttle as EDI remotely activated its thrusters. Garrus remained outside, his rifle ready, but no more enemies seemed to be coming. That was either very good, or very bad.

 _"Collector ship weapons systems are at ninety-three percent functionality,"_ EDI called into the comm channel. _"There is nothing else I can do to disrupt the process. We have approximately eighty seconds before their systems are online."_

 _Very bad,_ _then,_ his mind concluded for him.

He could hear them before he saw them, the pounding of boots heralding Shepard and Tali's entry into his field of vision at the far end of the tunnel, and they sprinted to meet him. As they closed, Garrus could see Shepard's face, a bloodied wreck of cuts, and he laughed slightly as he followed them into the shuttle.

"Shepard, you look like hell." The human simply shook his head slightly as he looked out the front viewport. EDI had lifted the shuttle off from the docking bay and was racing it back towards the open cargo bay of the Normandy. Shepard's eyes remained on the scene in front of them as he replied.

"Could be worse, I could be turian." Garrus chuckled as the shuttle gained speed, hurtling toward its destination, and Joker's voice filtered into the cabin.

_"Hey there, campers! Really nice of you to be on-time with the whole 'escaping from a gigantic enemy ship' thing. Are we ready to get the hell out of here?"_

The shuttle entered the Normandy's bay, and John slapped the console interface to close the hatch behind them. As soon as it latched, he called back out to his pilot. "We're secure, Joker, move it!"

The ship lurched as he complied, accelerating forward at an incredible pace. The ship banked hard to the side, and he could hear the hum of the FTL engines explode into life as they made their escape. A few seconds passed in complete quiet within the small shuttle; no one daring to move or even speak. After what felt like a lifetime, a long-winded sigh came through the comm channel.

 _"Whew…Joker: 1, bad guys: 0…"_ John smiled as he opened the side hatch of the shuttle.

"Good work, Joker. EDI, get Chakwas ready to take any injured."

 _"Doctor Chakwas and her crew are already_ en route _to meet you, Shepard."_

"Sounds good," he replied. "I could use a clean face." He looked to his left, meeting Tali's gaze, and subtly took her hand in his own. "Then it's time to get some answers." She nodded once, ready for anything.

* * *

"Anything?"

"No, sir. There hasn't been any attempt to breach the doors since we sealed them." The quarian held his weapon with little finesse, he was after all an engineer and not a soldier, but very tightly as he made his report. Rael straightened with a soft sigh before responding. What were the damned machines waiting for? Vorin'Xen had told him hours ago that they'd stopped constructing new units, and every security camera had proven that to be true. Why then were they waiting? His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a voice over his ship-wide communication channel.

_"Admiral Rael'Zorah, come in. This is Daran'Veda vas Tonbay, in charge of a small team sent to see if you need assistance. Admiral Shala'Raan has been attempting to make contact, and thought there might be a communications outage."_

His eyes widened in fear, and he scrambled to pull up his omni-tool and reply. As he opened the channel, the man spoke again.

 _"Repeat, come in Admira—_ Keelah, _what is th—!"_ His call was cut off by the sounds of rapid gunfire and the bone-chilling clicking of geth communicating. It was all over in a few seconds, and he hung his head as the comm channel went silent again. After a moment, one of his crew spoke softly.

"Sir…? What…what should we do?" A silence hung in the corridor, and Rael pulled up his omni-tool wordlessly, accessing the ship's primary airlock and sealing it down. He leveled layers upon layers of encryption over top of the lock, ensuring that no one else would die for trying to help. When finished, he lowered the device with a sigh, turning back to look at his team.

"They've stopped building new units; they're waiting us out." The pause in his sentence seemed a death sentence, and they all understood it to be one. "Admiral Raan suspects something is wrong here, or she wouldn't have sent the team. Regrettably, it seems the only way to salvage the situation…is to take the fight to the geth." His team reacted in different ways; some shook their heads in disbelief, others nodded solemnly, and still others simply stood shocked at what he suggested.

"Even if we take back the ship…Admiral Raan will know something terrible happened when her team doesn't come back." The man's voice was tinged with fear, and Rael nodded calmly before replying.

"Yes, she will. We'll take care of the geth here, and then I will assume full responsibility for what happened. I will see to it that none of your names are tarnished; by the Ancestors I swear it." Around him, heads nodded in consent as engineers and data-crunchers picked up weapons and readied themselves to follow him. As they gathered around the locked door, the man spoke again.

"You are a great leader, Admiral Zorah. We're ready for whatever comes."

Rael nodded slowly, pressing the access button and beginning the opening sequence for the hatch. He was a great leader; some would say the best of his time. He had been a fair and just admiral, but also one with a heavy hand when it came to protecting the Fleet and its people. But what had he sacrificed to achieve such a prized position? As he waited for the door to decrypt, he looked down to his omni-tool, to the image that was displayed there, frozen in time. His wife, his daughter; the two people he had loved more than anything. And the two people he had abandoned in service to the Fleet. He dismissed the image, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, the realization of years of neglect and abandonment crashing down upon his mind only now, as he faced his death. Opening them, he readied his weapon, prepared to fight the machines back inch by inch, prepared to survive this foolish assault on a much stronger enemy.

And if they made it out alive…prepared to be a changed man.

* * *

[No Signal] displayed across the surface of her omni-tool, and Shala shook her head in confusion. She exited the message program, re-initialized it, and transmitted another status request.

[No Signal].

With a sigh of concern, she closed the device, continuing to walk along the path that would lead her to the small, but sufficient, room she used for her duties as admiral. It was near the bridge of the Tonbay, which suited her just fine, and she passed through the hanging curtain bearing the colors and symbols of Clan Raan, taking a seat behind a small desk before opening the device once more. Sparing a moment, she glanced toward the curtain again, making sure she would be undisturbed, before accessing a special channel and inputting an admiralty override code that allowed her to pull up the recordings from the team's suit cameras. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk as she watched the recording play out.

The perspective sat with the team leader, Daran'Veda, and it approached the closed access hatch of the Alarei. Another quarian moved into view, crossing casually to the access panel and beginning to open the seal. Daran's voice could be heard as he accessed the Alarei's ship-wide channel.

_"Admiral Rael'Zorah, come in. This is Daran'Veda vas Tonbay, in charge of a small team sent to see if you need assistance. Admiral Shala'Raan has been attempting to make contact, and thought there might be a communications outage."_

She nodded silently as the recording progressed, and bristled a bit as silence met Daran's request. After a moment, he attempted to contact them again.

 _"Repeat, come in Admira—_ Keelah, _what is th—!"_ The doors snapped open, revealing a group of five geth platforms, and Shala gasped as she watched them quickly dispatch her small team. The suit camera, detecting the cessation of vital signs from its occupant, froze, its perspective askew from the way Daran's body had fallen, but very clearly showing the five geth lowering their weapons.

She felt panic welling inside her, and a long moment passed that felt like an eternity as she sat terrified, hearing the blood pounding through her head. Geth were here, on the Alarei, and who knew how many there were, or what had become of Rael and his team. That thought sent a cold shiver down her spine. Tali. If Rael were dead… _No_ , she thought firmly, standing suddenly and walking at a brisk pace from the room. Years of experience as an admiral kicked in, and she assessed the situation as she walked quickly toward the shuttle bay, tapping into her omni-tool a request to have one prepared for her.

Geth aboard the Fleet. Widespread knowledge would lead to panic. If Daro'Xen found out, she'd send an army to enslave them, for more experiments, which could allow them to network aboard other ships. She shook her head slightly, and continued thinking as she walked. If Zaal'Koris were told, he would try to make peace with the damned machines, probably sending even more quarians to their deaths. She needed to confide in someone who had military expertise as well as a vested interest in discretion and the safety of Rael and his team, Ancestors willing they were still alive. And that left only one person.

* * *

" _Keelah_ , they're actually aboard the Alarei…" Han'Gerrel trailed off as he stepped away from Shala's outstretched omni-tool, turning to circle around behind the desk in his quarters as he took in the situation. He turned his head to look back at her as he walked. "And you've received no communication from Rael, or anyone aboard the Alarei?" She shook her head, and he shook his in return. "Damn…"

"I don't think he's dead, Han."

"No, I don't either," he replied, "but what makes you so sure?"

"This," she said, tapping in some keys on her device to show a charted diagram, which Han stepped closer to read. "Containment procedures for the ship. Every single one is active and at full strength; that takes time to set up. Whatever happened aboard that ship, Han, the geth didn't take them by surprise."

"I'm not sure whether to be glad of that, or terrified…" he trailed off, and she nodded softly in agreement. "Still, it looks like they've also got a hard lock-down on a few of the access points," he continued, bringing up his own copy of the data she'd passed to him. "All signs point to some kind of defense holding on the Alarei. The problem is…how do we help them?" Shala shook her head.

"I can't send anyone else from the Tonbay, not without arousing suspicion. I think…" she looked away briefly before meeting his eyes again. "I think we both know this can't get out. For the sake of everyone aboard that ship, Rael included." After a moment of consideration, Han nodded.

"I agree, but I can't pull anyone from the Neema, the ship's military forces are either out scouting or on continuous patrol. And if we pull from any other ship…that's a red flag immediately…" He shook his head in frustration, going over the information in front of him again. Shala's throat tightened; she had known it would come to this, had gone over every scenario in her head, all of them playing out the same way. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"There is one option left to us."

"Oh?" He looked up, clearly ready to hear out any idea.

"We could contact Tali and Commander Shepard." Han barked a single, cold laugh.

"Absolutely not. You're talking about not only bringing an outsider into the Fleet, but then letting him in on the monumental secret that there are active geth aboard one of our ships, and sending him in with Rael's **daughter** , no less."

"He's the greatest enemy the geth have ever had," she replied calmly. "The geth link intelligence, share memories and archives. The second Shepard sets foot aboard the Alarei, every geth will recognize the greater threat, giving anyone still aboard the ship a better chance to survive. Besides, Tali has a vested interest in the matter. Rael is your best friend, Han, and Tali is practically my daughter. Wouldn't you want her to know what's happening to her own father, and give her a chance to stop it?"

"Of course I do, Shala, it's just…" He looked away, shaking his head as he came to the realization that any other option would spread their secret. At last he sighed, turning back to face her. "Alright. Make the call to Tali, tell her she's coming in as per Rael's request, and have their ship approach the Alarei. You and I will take a shuttle there, to meet the 'great Commander Shepard,' and we'll get this thing taken care of quickly and quietly."

"And in the meantime?"

"I'll send a few small shuttles to cordon off the Alarei. We'll say it's some kind of core maintenance; keep anyone else away from the ship." Shala nodded in return, and he crossed his arms as he looked down at the data from the commandeered vessel. "Regardless of who's still alive down there, Shala…we **need** to find out what the hell happened."

Shala nodded once, then turned and left the room, regaining her quick pace back to the shuttle bay as she opened her omni-tool and began to sweep for Tali's communication channel, somewhere out there in the galaxy. Not too far, she hoped silently; for Rael's sake, and for Tali's.


	24. Storm Clouds

***Author's Note***  
This is a chapter I was really looking forward to  
writing, because it symbolizes for me at least the first  
major break with canon for which we'll see consequences  
in the next piece. I hope you like it!

I broke this mission into two parts. While I really wanted  
to do a full monster chapter about it, it's already been too  
long without an update, and I wanted to give you all  
something sooner. This and the next chapter will cover the  
before, and the during/after, respectfully.

Enjoy! Thanks for all the reviews, PM's, and comments!

* * *

**Storm Clouds**

"We're supposed to be fighting on the same side, here. How can I trust you when you pull shit like this?" John's voice held open hostility for the wire-frame image of the man sitting comfortably thousands of light-years away, and to his further frustration the Illusive Man simply took another drag from his cigarette.

"It was a necessary risk, Shepard. We got the information we need to navigate the Omega Four relay; we acquired the truth about the extinction…or rather, subjugation…of the Prothean people. Besides, I had faith in your abilities, and no one seems to be missing from your roster…"

John ground his teeth as he replied coldly. "Never again, you understand me? If you keep sending us into hostile situations, I need to know the details. Getting the intel is **your** job; keeping my team alive is **mine** , and I can't do that job if you're selling me bullshit."

The man's image tapped his cigarette idly into the ash tray that sat in the arm of his chair. "You're hardly in a position to be issuing me ultimatums, Shepard. Besides, we may disagree on the tactics employed, but we **are** on the same side. Your information is on a need-to-know basis; and if I think you need to go in blind, you go in blind." A short pause hung in the air in which John thought through all the ways to kill the other man before he spoke again. "EDI will contact me when she's done analyzing the data you recovered. Until then, I suggest you tell your crew I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily." The image disappeared, and John hung his head as he turned and left the room, fists balled in silent rage as he contemplated yet again the depth of his entanglement with this organization he'd once sworn to dismantle completely.

Walking back around through an empty armory and to his terminal at the CIC, he couldn't help but let a soft sigh escape him as he waited for his personal messages to load. He shut his eyes, trying to let the anger bleed off of him, and had just began to feel as if it would never happen when a soft voice interrupted him.

"Commander? Is…everything alright?" He opened his eyes and looked towards the sound, across the short stairwell to where Kelly stood at her own terminal, working through evaluative reports on the different crew members. He could see a concerned glint in her eye, and he allowed a small smile to cross his lips as he turned back to his own terminal.

"Yea, everything's fine, Kelly. Just a little 'differing of opinions.'" She turned to face him fully, leaning on the railing of the stairwell that led up to the galaxy map.

"How so?"

Closing out his inbox, he turned and leaned on his own railing, laughing inwardly for a moment at how strange the two of them must look before replying. "Well it's pretty simple actually. The Illusive Man thinks everyone aboard this vessel, you and I included, are completely expendable. I tend to disagree."

"Well I'm glad one of you does," she commented with a laugh, and he felt a small chuckle emanate from himself as well. After a short pause, she continued in a quieter, more serious tone. "Commander, it's my job to listen to people, whether I'm 'evaluating' them or not, and I don't mean to brag but…I'm very good at my job. It's the reason I was assigned to you and the Normandy. Just like almost all of us."

"What are you getting at, Kelly?" His reply held genuine interest; he was curious as to where she was going.

"What I'm saying is this: Every single crew member aboard this vessel was hand-picked because he or she was determined by the Illusive Man to be a candidate for their respective position who would mesh well with not only your personality and known leadership style, but also the type of company you keep; noted alien tolerance was remarkably high among every single Cerberus staff member aboard the Normandy. These aren't Cerberus radicals or extremists here with you, Shepard. We…we're just people who want to protect humanity, and we're not above working with other species to do so."

"That's kind of my point, though," he replied. "If the Illusive Man was so careful to make the ship feel like mine, and give me dossiers on the people he felt were **absolutely** necessary to stop the Collectors; why just throw us in blind and hope for the best? Why put not only myself and my crew in danger, but everyone aboard this ship as well. Sure, you all know the risks when you sign on, but that was just senseless." She nodded as he finished.

"I agree. And I think you'll find everyone aboard agrees. The Illusive Man most certainly has humanity's best interests at heart, but he's very frank when he says he'll promote it through any means necessary. You, on the other hand, always seem to manage what, to the Illusive Man, seems impossible: you protect humanity at every turn, while negotiating with alien races, and keeping your people alive. That's not to say there haven't been circumstances outside your control…" she trailed off, and he remembered Ash with a bitter sting, "but you represent to us what the Illusive Man and Cerberus could be…perhaps what they **should** be…" His eyes raised to meet hers, and she finished quietly. "I think if you really look around, Commander, you'll find you have many more allies against the Illusive Man here than you think." With a slight pause to let her point sink in, she stood back up, gathering a small stack of datapads from around her terminal before nodding to him and walking up toward the bridge.

For a moment John remained standing there, stricken. Enemies against the Illusive Man on a Cerberus vessel? Sure, the man was harsh, and completely ruthless, but he didn't really incite mutiny…did he? He continued thinking about what she'd said as he turned back to his terminal, checking once more to make sure nothing new had come in when a familiar voice chimed out of his terminal.

" _Shepard, Tali is approaching Deck Two in the lift and has requested to see you immediately; she says it is an emergency."_ Immediately, he turned from his terminal, crossing to stand in front of the lift as its doors slid open. Tali rushed out of the elevator, almost running right into him, and he caught her shoulders in his hands as her eyes found his. They were wide with panic, and she spoke hurriedly, letting the words pour out of her in a rush.

"John, I just got a call from Shala'Raan; something terrible has happened on the Fleet. She says we have to get there as soon as possible, that it's big, and dangerous, and," she stopped herself, looking around before leaning in and whispering. "She says it has to do with the geth."

It was his turn to have widened eyes. "On the Fleet?" he whispered. She nodded.

"They've taken control of a small ship, unknown to anyone but Shala and Admiral Han'Gerrel. I'm sorry, I don't want to distract us from the mission but…John, my father is on that ship." He nodded, turning back to his terminal and calling up the AI.

"EDI, we need to get to the Fleet."

" _We are already_ en route _, Shepard."_

"We…what?"

" _I have already scanned over four-hundred thousand communications channels and discerned the location of the Migrant Fleet. I have updated our path, and Mr. Moreau is preparing to engage the FTL drives to bring us to the nearest mass relay."_ A short pause hung in the air, and she continued. _"Mr. Moreau requested to speak with you at the same time Tali did. When I informed him that her matter was an emergency and took precedence, he directed me to ascertain the current location of the Fleet."_

" _There are only three things quarians panic about:"_ his pilot's voice interrupted, _"bacteria, engineering problems, and the safety of the Fleet. Engineering readouts look good, and last I saw Tali's suit wasn't full of holes, so I used my brain."_ John couldn't help but smile and shake his head, adding another mark to the running total of how glad he was to have Jeff, and replied.

"Can you give me an ETA?"

" _I'm pushing the Normandy as fast as she can go, and EDI's pushing all her secondary power into the core. Good news is that we had to come out here to the middle of nowhere to find the Collector ship, the Fleet isn't that far away."_ EDI's voice continued for him.

" _Our most accurate estimation is approximately four hours."_

" _Keelah_ …" Tali whispered, turning away to look at the deck. "I hope we're not too late." He closed the small gap between them, again placing his hands on her shoulders, and she looked up at him as he spoke.

"If I've learned anything about your father from the way you talk about him, he'd kill a thousand geth to protect the smallest ship in the Fleet. And you don't get to be an Admiral without knowing how to keep your people safe." She nodded slowly, and outside the viewports the stars began to streak away as Joker engaged the FTL drives, sending the Normandy hurtling toward the mass relay.

* * *

"More around the far corner!" Rael yelled to his team as he laid down a stream of pistol fire, keeping the enemy platforms from peering around the corner to take out any more of his team. Four quarians, taking the opportunity, rushed forward from the corner of the hallway Rael guarded, sliding into cover behind a series of lab tables. His clip emptied out, and he threw himself back behind his cover as not a second later enemy bullets rained into the place he'd once stood. Breathing heavily, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and tried to quiet his mind.

He'd done remarkably well so far, they all had. For a team of scientists and engineers, every quarian still under Rael's protection had done more than adequately in taking out the geth. When the doors had first slid open, he'd lost two immediately to the hail of gunfire from the waiting enemies, but they'd regrouped, recovered, and retaliated. Truth be told he had almost detected a bit of surprise in their enemy's movement, and the thought occurred to him that he'd possibly surprised his enemy by doing exactly what they knew he wouldn't: choosing to fight back against ridiculous odds.

He snapped a new clip into his pistol, allowing the empty one to fall to the deck below. War was no place for tidiness, especially not this war. He looked behind him, to where the second group of four, the last group, stood waiting. He'd kept eight of them alive; over thirty had worked with him aboard the Alarei, and he had eight left. Shaking his head, he pushed the despair from his mind, rounding the corner and laying down more covering fire as the second group rushed forward, finding cover. Seeing all of his people safely down, Rael stepped out of cover as he fired, strafing over to an empty spot and crouching behind it as bullets immediately zipped by overhead.

"Sir!" The engineer next to him spoke loudly over the din of gunfire being traded between the two sides. "The master security room is just through those doors across the room. I've examined them, and they aren't locked down. It's possible the geth didn't think we'd make it this far." Rael peeked over the top, seeing the green panel before more bullets put him back down behind cover.

"The geth didn't expect us to move against them at all," he replied, pulling up the room's schematics on his omni-tool. The room was shaped like a long hallway, with lanes of lab tables crossing it. The geth were about halfway up on the left side, firing around a safe corner. The security room was across the length of the room, passing directly into an open line of fire for their enemy, and with a single row of lab tables they would have to vault over as they ran. He shook his head at the grim prospect as he spoke again. "And the protocols inside are still online?" The other quarian nodded.

"Yes, sir, as far as I can tell. It's a ship-wide, custom-engineered EMP; it would render the Alarei completely dead in the stars, along with our suits' life support systems, but we'd be able to make it long enough for someone to pick us up, and the geth would be taken care of." He understood the necessity, though he abhorred the cost. After a moment, he nodded.

"Tell the others to get ready; I'll go up first and draw fire but we all need to move quickly." The other quarian shook his head vehemently.

"No sir, I won't let you be the first up. Let me go, you get the others to safety." Behind his visor, Rael smiled, a sad gesture. He placed his hand on the other man's shoulder before speaking.

"No, this is my doing. I will lead these people to safety, even if the price is my life. I have given it to the Fleet for many years; I will not cease to do so now." After a moment, the engineer nodded, then turned to the others and relayed the plan. When he turned back to nod acknowledgment, Rael returned the gesture, then closed his eyes and waited. He thought of Meru, and Tali, and it struck him with a great sharpness that of all the things he'd done for the Fleet, all the lives his work had touched, here at the end all he could think of where the lives of those he'd neglected. Meru had loved him still, but when she'd died Tali had felt the true chill of his disconnection. Tali…his beautiful, wonderful daughter…he shook his head softly at the inner rage he felt toward himself, knowing it was more than well-deserved. Taking one last peaceful breath, he hurled himself up over his cover position, firing heavily into the cluster of geth at the corner as he rushed across the room.

The others followed him, leaping up and running across the geth's firing field, and whenever Rael saw one of them take aim at a member of his team, he shifted his focus to it. It wasn't enough. There were five platforms that he could see inside the outline of the doorway, and soon after they reached the halfway point his people began to fall. One man was struck in the knee, with three more rounds puncturing his visor before he hit the ground. A woman who ran as she fired was taken in the chest, the speed of the impact completely halting her momentum before another handful of rounds flung her back against a far wall, her blood smearing down its surface as she tumbled to the floor.

Rael vaulted the lab table and turned immediately to run backwards as he kept fire on the enemies. To his horror, the lab table quickly became a cluster point, as two members of his team were killed on approach, their falling bodies adding to the obstacle. Three of the four remaining scrambled over top of their fallen friends, but the last man, jumping to clear the table, caught his boot on the side of it, tumbling forward to lie prone atop its surface. For a split second his eyes met Rael's, and he flung his hand out to tell him to keep going an instant before geth rounds slammed into him, and he went still. The three still on their feet flew past him with calls to run with them, and Rael continued to run sideways, keeping the geth pinned down as best he could, when a single platform, taller than the others by at least two feet, stepped out of the hallway. The machine's shields soaked his bullets easily, and pulled forth a pieced-together assault rifle, hammering down on the trigger as it aimed at the fleeing quarian.

Rael heard the doors slide open behind him, knowing the others were safe a moment before he felt the rounds slam into his chest. One took his shields from full to ten percent, the next shattered them, and the three following found their mark in his suit. The impact sent him stumbling backwards toward the security room, and one of the survivors rushed back out of the room, grabbing his body and yanking him into it before the doors slammed shut. He was lowered to the floor, pain radiating from his chest as it felt more and more constricted. He looked down, seeing blood seeping slowly but surely out of the wounds, and he shakily raised his arm, activating the omni-tool and interfacing with the EMP controls.

"They're right outside the door!" one of the quarians yelled, though to Rael his voice sounded unclear, as if his ears were obstructed. It sounded…far away…and darkness began to cloud in on the edges of his vision. He shook it off, glaring into his omni-tool as the sync completed and the EMP control displayed. He slammed down on the activation key with his free hand, and after a second the screen glowed red, the message [ACCESS PROTOCOL INCORRECT] blazing across the screen.

" _Keelah_ …" the quarian next to him whispered, "they've locked everything down…everything…" Hands shaking, the man set to the task of inspecting Rael's wounds, and Rael himself continued to stare into the harsh, unfeeling message. He'd lost so many to get here, and still they'd beaten him. Soundless tears rolled down the sides of his face as he realized the end was upon them, and that he'd failed. Darkness began to close around him, and he tried shaking it off again, but quickly began to convulse unconsciously. His chest, rising and falling erratically, shrieked in pain at every motion, and his eyes flew about the room, looking for anything to anchor him, give him something to focus on.

One survivor crouched by the door, frantically keeping its access code ever-changing. Another crouched over Rael himself, whispering encouraging words but unintentionally allowing pure fear to push its way into his tone. The third, a soft-spoken woman, sat in a corner, her legs drawn up against her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees, desperately attempting to record, through bouts of sobbing, a farewell message to her son.

His heart broke, and the darkness overtook him.

* * *

The Normandy dropped out of FTL and Jeff pulled back on the thrusters, allowing the ship, **his** ship, to glide gracefully toward the great myriad Fleet in front of him. He'd remembered Lia talking about it occasionally, but as he looked at all the ships clustered together, each so different and yet all appearing as one big family, he couldn't help but still be amazed. Allowing a smile to spread onto his lips, he slowed the ship to a very slow drift as Tali authorized their approach with her pass phrase.

" _Acknowledged…"_ the security operator's voice projected into the bridge, and a small pause hung in the air before he continued. _"Not to pry…but your ship's identification is blank, Tali'Zorah…"_

"Council Special Tactics and Recon," Shepard added from his position beside the pilot's chair. "This is John Shepard, here at Admiral Raan's request. We'll be bringing a small shuttle forward; the main ship will stay back here."

"Keelah, _Shepard himself,"_ he replied with sudden understanding. _"Yes, that would explain it. Sorry to delay you, I've uploaded coordinates to your rendezvous with Admiral Raan aboard the Alarei. Be careful as you approach, we've been receiving transmissions that heavy infrastructure work is being done to the ship, and there may be other small spacecraft nearby."_

"We'll keep an eye out, thanks." The transmission cut out, and Jeff tapped in the controls to keep the ship hanging where she was before leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head, and speaking.

"So…you sure you just want us all to stay here?" His mood was soured a little when, in response, Shepard just nodded aimlessly as he stared out at the ships. Commander Shepard had always been a great man, a fearless leader, modest to the end, and Jeff's favorite: a man with a great sense of humor. And outside of the military rankings, he'd always considered the Commander a friend; a group whose numbers he could have counted on one hand before their hunt for Saren. Lowering his voice, he leaned slightly over to the man before speaking again. "Hey…you alright?"

Shepard seemed to slip out of a trance, shaking his head slightly before looking at him. A small smile showed up then, and he leaned back, stretching his arms off to the side with a large exhale. "Yea, I'm fine; just a little nervous is all."

"Why? Meeting the parents?" He grinned at the implication, but Shepard frowned, looking back out to the ships.

"Hopefully, Jeff…" He sat shocked. The number of times Shepard used his first name was a number he still **could** count on one hand, and the man seemed to realize the gravity of what he'd said as he looked back to his pilot. "We'll be fine. Just keep the ship here and wait for my update. And while I know you'll be bored, try not to clobber anyone else with a lunch tray, alright?" He smiled, and Jeff laughed.

"Heard about that, huh?"

"How could I not? You're practically the local badass."

"Yea, that'll be the day. I think if the crippled guy became the badass on the Normandy, they'd never let you command a ship ever again." The two of them shared in a small laugh, and Shepard nodded to him before turning to walk back down the hallway towards the lift that would take him to the shuttle. Checking the time, he frowned a bit as he realized how late it was, and that he was still alone on the bridge. "Hey EDI," he called out to the empty space in front of him, "do you know where Lia is?" Her glowing blue orb winked into existence to his side.

" _Lia'Vael is currently in the Observation Deck."_

"With Samara?"

" _Samara has moved to the cargo bay, she appears to be exercising her biotics on spare cargo crates. Lia'Vael is the Observation Deck's only occupant."_ He frowned again at the news, and before he could speak, EDI did. _"I am fully capable of maintaining our current drift, and maneuvering if necessary."_ He nodded, tapping in the controls as he stood shakily and walked toward the lift. The AI, much as he would never admit it, was starting to grow on him. Lately she seemed as if she were beginning to learn about them, or be able to read their gestures and tones of voice. It scared him, but he kind of liked it as well. She was almost a co-pilot that he didn't have to worry about sharing any cabin space with.

"EDI's got it," he replied to Kelly's confused look as he walked past her, and she smiled and nodded, turning back to her work. Calling up the lift, he looked around at the various crew at their stations. Not a single one of them was looking at him with that pitiable gaze, and for the first time in a long time, he felt more at home regardless of the logos everywhere. Stepping into the lift, he sent it down a deck, stepping out and passing by Garrus as he walked.

"Finally getting some exercise, Joker?" the turian said with what he'd learned passed for a grin.

"Yea," he replied, "next week I'm running in the eighth annual Cerberus Invitational Marathon. Gonna take the gold, this year." Garrus laughed as he continued past, and Jeff made his way to the Observation Deck, tapping the access panel. The doors slid open, and he smiled as he saw her sitting right in front of the large viewport, her legs drawn up against her chest, arms wrapped around them as she stared out into the Fleet. She turned her head when he entered. "Hey," he whispered. She tilted her head slightly, a smile if he'd ever seen one, and turned to look back at the ships as she spoke.

"Sorry I didn't come up to the bridge, I just…"

"Wanted to see home?" he finished for her as he approached, slowly lowering himself to sit next to her. She didn't offer to help him, or watch him with caution as he sat, and he loved her all the more for it.

"Something like that." Silence hung between them for a moment, and she raised her hand, pointing to one of the ships in the group outside the viewport. "That's the Ulnay." He followed her finger to find a smaller ship amongst the others, gliding gracefully with the rest. It was elliptical in shape, with superstructure expanding out from beneath. If he squinted his eyes, it somewhat resembled the shape of a brain.

"So your family is still there?" She nodded as she replied.

"Yes. My father's a soldier; he helps maintain peace aboard the ship. Regular patrols, always later on. I was usually asleep by the time he'd get back…"

"Do quarians need much policing?" he asked with a hint of humor.

"No," she said with a small laugh. "It's mostly just for appearances, though there have been a few incidents he's had to step in and stop."

"What about your mother?"

"She works directly for the Captain, alongside a handful of others, managing resources and making sure everyone aboard is taken care of."

"Sounds like a pretty important job with the way your people live." She nodded absently.

"It is. My parents aren't famous or well-known, no more so than any other quarian, but the work they do is essential. I thought I wanted to have a responsibility like my mother, but now…" she trailed off, and he leaned forward, catching her gaze as she shook her head softly. "My Pilgrimage has been…less than successful so far. I'm so grateful to you and Commander Shepard for helping me along, but sometimes I wonder if I really want to finish it at all." She turned to look at him.

"What do you mean? I mean…this is kind of your big thing, right? This is what makes you an adult in the eyes of your people."

"Yes. But it's also a journey of understanding and decision. We're sent out into the galaxy and expected to take it in, understand its people and cultures, see our place in it, and then return. Wanting to be accepted as an adult by my people motivated me for a long time, but I **did** go out into the galaxy, I **saw** people of all species, experienced their prejudice and cruelty…and their kindness, too. Shepard brought me aboard this ship not as a child to be cared for, but as an adult. _Keelah,_ Jeff, my position in engineering here is more important and critical than almost any aboard the Ulnay. I love this ship, the crew are kind to me regardless of the Fleet's history with Cerberus…" She looked back at the Fleet. "If I left, finished my Pilgrimage and returned to the Fleet, I'd stay there for the rest of my life. For most young quarians, Pilgrimage shows them that the only people they can truly rely on are themselves and their family, the Fleet. But **my** Pilgrimage showed me that there are a lot of exceptions to that rule. I'm accepted here, just as I am, and I've never been happier than when we're sitting on the bridge together." She paused for a moment, hesitating before she spoke again in a much quieter voice. "No matter what the Pilgrimage **should** mean to me…I know what you **do** mean to me."

Her words hit him like a bullet. He'd known that he cared for her, hell he'd told himself numerous times that he loved the girl, and he'd never been able to disagree with it. He had remembered how on-edge and nervous Shepard had been when the time for Tali to finish her Pilgrimage had approached, and knew that he felt the same way now. Still, while it killed him on the inside to think it, he knew he wouldn't come between her and her people; it was a choice of hers that he didn't want to influence. After a moment's consideration, he replied just as quietly. "I…don't really know how to go about saying this; I'd say I had a tough time with girls when I was a kid, but you can't really 'have a tough time' if you don't even try, so…" He saw her eyes narrow in confusion, and he took a breath before continuing. "Lia…I love you. I'm at my best when we're together, to the point where, obviously, I get worried when you're not there. I love what we have together, and you mean…so much to me…but, despite everything I feel for you…I can't ask you to give up everything you know and be a constant stranger in the galaxy just for me. It wouldn't be fair to you, and…I just can't."

She moved wordlessly, edging over to sit right next to him, and softly rested her head on his shoulder. Unconsciously, he leaned his own to the side, feeling the soft touch of her _realk_ against his face. They stared out at the ships in silence for what felt to him an agonizing eternity. Had he really just told her she had to leave? No…no that wasn't what he'd meant. Surely she knew he didn't **want** her to go…just that…his head swam with confusion and panic, and she turned her head to look up into his eyes.

"I know; and that's why I would." He smiled weakly at her, and she reached down, taking his hand in her own. They sat together in peaceful quiet, watching the ships of the Fleet hanging before them, soundlessly begging her to return to them. Almost in reply to their silent question, she whispered to Jeff as he held her close. "I love you, too." He smiled, squeezing her closer for a moment. She'd made her choice, and he was of two minds about it. On one hand, he'd just been almost instrumental in separating her from her people. On the other…she wasn't leaving. His brain demanded he debate both sides and decide whether or not to stop her.

She inched a bit closer to him, and he told his brain to shut the hell up.

* * *

The steady hum of the shuttle's engines dropped in pitch as the craft pulled up to dock alongside the other small craft which hung weightless in space and docked with the Alarei. John looked out the main viewport at what Tali had told him was a research vessel as they approached and waited for a sign. Outwardly, the craft showed no signs of any kind of struggle, and it was with great difficulty that he imagined the horrors that had happened within its walls; that may **still** be happening…Shaking his head softly to dispel the gruesome thoughts, he turned his attention back to the vessel they approached.

"We're about to dock," Tali said, her voice a nervous whisper. She'd been brave since they'd set a course for the Fleet, and explained to him what would be happening when they arrived with a kind of solemn professionalism, but now as they approached, her inner fears began to exude. A moment later, a small lurch in the ship indicated their arrival at the empty of the two docking bays attached to the Alarei, and John moved to the airlock as it slid open quietly. Tali followed him down the ramp, which after a short walk led them into a main disembarking area, the two docking ramps from each bay meeting, and separated from the rest of the ship by a single heavy door, its access interface glowing red. As they walked, Tali moved up to his side, and stepping out into the larger area, they could see the two quarians standing by the door.

"Tali…" the woman spoke, moving forward and embracing her. The man stood at a parade rest, his hands clasped behind his back, and nodded curtly to John, a gesture he returned. As Tali and the woman separated, she turned her attention to him. "Commander Shepard," she began, outstretching a hand he shook willingly. "Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay. This is admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema. We've all heard quite a bit about your previous endeavors. It is a great honor to meet you."

"Likewise, admirals. I only wish it were under better circumstances."

"On that, we are most certainly agreed," the man said, stepping forward and offering his own hand in a firm shake. "I…hope I don't need to overstate the extreme sensitivity of what's going on here."

"Not at all, admiral," John replied. "Our lips are sealed. Count on it." Han nodded, content with the answer, and stepped back beside Shala. A brief silence hung in the air, and Tali spoke at last in a very hushed voice.

"Have…you heard anything from…anyone aboard?"

"Nothing yet, kid," Han replied with no small amount of sympathy. "But there are signs all over the place if you know where to look. There's a resistance going on in there, however small. Any enemy worth a damn knows one of your preliminary targets in a fight is communications. To be honest, I'd be more surprised if we **had** heard anything from inside." Tali nodded solemnly, and John put a hand on her shoulder, leaning in to speak quietly.

"He's in there fighting, Tali. We're going to get him out." She met his eyes, nodding in agreement. Returning to an upright pose, he started for the smallest fraction of a second as he saw Shala'Raan, and though her face was obscured like any other quarian he'd met, he would have bet any amount of money she was…smiling…He didn't have long to think about it though, as Tali nodded definitively, moving over to the large access door and setting to work unlocking it. John turned back to the admirals. "With all due respect, admirals, you may want to get clear."

"We'll be aboard our own vessel. The illusion of a private meeting with you and Tali needs to be maintained," Han responded, and turned to walk back up their ramp. John's attention turned to Shala, who was looking almost longingly at Tali's back. After a moment, she shook her head slightly, and turned to fully face him. When she spoke, it was a whisper.

"Commander, we don't know each other, and I feel at a great advantage in that I know more about you than you will likely ever know about me. And, should the ancestors watch over you, there will be plenty of time for that conversation later. But for now…" her eyes moved back to Tali as she finished. "Keep her safe. You are one of a very small number of people in this galaxy she completely trusts."

"I don't take that lightly, admiral," he replied. Did she know about their relationship? She seemed to be hinting at it, and yet…he decided to test it as delicately as possible. "I trust her as well, with everything."

"I'm sure of it," she replied, still watching Tali hack at the door. "Our people have been forced to become extremely perceptive of body language, for obvious reasons." She turned to look him in the eye as she continued. "I saw everything I needed to the second you walked down the access ramp, Commander." His mind tried to work that thought over, and she nodded to him before turning to walk back up the ramp as well, leaving him and Tali alone. Crossing to her, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and smiled when, even after their recent blossoming closeness, she twitched slightly at the unexpected contact. She tapped a few keys with finality, then looked up to him.

"It's ready, John. The door is ready to access and I've hacked the ship-wide communications channel. We're…we're ready." He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Are **you** ready?" She held his gaze, and stepped forward, embracing him tightly for a few seconds before stepping back.

"As ready as I can be…for something like this." He nodded, and they unlocked their weapons. Reaching forward, he tapped the access panel. The doors slipped to the sides, and he shook his head as they stepped around the fallen quarians. Shala had told them they'd be just beyond the door, but in his experience as a soldier, nothing ever truly prepared you to see another dead innocent. Raising his eyes, he took a breath before opening the comm channel. Rael'Zorah was in here. He **was**. And right now the only thing that mattered to Tali was finding him. He stoked the fire inside him, that blaze he lit before every battle, and poured his hatred of the geth into it. After a second, he opened the comm channel and spoke.

* * *

Hazy lights…muted sounds…muffled words…quarians…Alarei…geth… **geth**...

Rael's eyes shot open. At the remembrance of their situation, all grogginess had flown out of him, and he instantly moved to sit up. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt, razor sharp blades tearing across every inch of his abdomen, and his cry out for an update turned quickly into a simple cry out in pain before he collapsed backward onto the floor. A hand was on his shoulder, a visor entering his field of vision.

"Admiral Zorah! He's conscious, Deban!" Another visor entered into the space above him, and Deban'Nara spoke.

"Admiral Zorah, sir, you need to remain still. We've closed up your wounds, but just barely. My mother always did say I was terrible at patchwork, and the medi-gel is in short supply, but it should be able to keep you safe until we get out of here." His eyes looked at both of them, then over to the woman kneeling by the door, constantly working the access codes.

"How…how long…" he tried to form the question.

"Close to three hours, sir," Deban replied. "After the first hour, the number of geth attacks on the door's security system dropped significantly. Instead…they just turned off the oxygen. Vented it all; what's in our suits is all we've got."

Pushing himself up on his hands, he slid backwards, allowing his back to find the bulkhead. Leaning against it with a heavy sigh, he surveyed the situation. They were trapped, the geth right outside, oxygen failing gradually, and with no access to any weapons systems. He closed his eyes in frustration; he'd failed completely.

"Sir…" the woman spoke up, and he turned to regard her. She'd left her position at the door, code changing being taken over by Deban, and now crouched down beside him. "As I was working the codes…I also tried hacking the geth overrides. I ah…I actually used one of the suggested attacks crafted from the data your daughter brought back…A-Anyway, it gave me a small window before their network recovered, but it was enough, sir. I've got control…and they don't know it yet…" Confused, he looked down to her omni-tool, where the access interface for the core control system now glowed green, waiting for his input to overload.

Rael looked around to the others, their three helmeted faces accepting their deaths with curt nodes of understanding. Sorrow welled in his chest, and he tried to speak. "I'm…I'm sorry. I failed you all."

"If we can stop this invasion right here and now," Deban replied, "I don't think any of us have failed in the least, sir." Small murmurs off assent from the other two decided it, and he nodded decisively. Reaching out to touch the access panel, he silently apologized again to his daughter, and asked the ancestors to watch over his spirit. If any kindness still existed in the universe, they would lead him back to Meru. Inches from the panel, they all started as a voice came over the ship-wide.

" _Attention, crew of the Alarei. This is John Shepard, Council Spectre. I'm bringing in a strike team to clear out the geth and rescue any survivors. If you're in a safe place, bunker down and stay there, we'll get you out of here."_

"Shepard?" Deben breathed the question with disbelief. "The human who saved the Citadel? _Keelah_ I don't think rescuers get any better than him."

Rael pulled his hand away from the controls, and the woman closed the interface. The three of them began to chatter about their sudden and greatly increased chance of survival, but Rael heard none of it. His mind reeled at the message. Shepard was here, aboard the Alarei, and that meant…that meant Tali was with him. He knew she would be; the girl practically idolized the human. His sorrow compounded tenfold as he realized with horror that not only had he doomed his team, but he had also led his daughter straight into a death trap.

Leaning his head back against the bulkhead, knowing he was completely helpless in the matter, admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya turned off his audio emitters and, for the first time in longer than he could remember, wept profusely for Tali.


	25. Trust

***Author's Note***  
Part 2 of the Alarei mission, updated very  
quickly as per your requests! I had a couple  
scenes aboard the Normandy interspersed  
throughout the chapter, but in review they  
seemed to take away from the overall feel of  
the chapter, so I pulled them to add in a later  
chapter.

Hope you enjoy this very non-canon approach  
to the story! It's going to set up a much different  
chain of events in the ME3 re-take.

* * *

**Trust**

"Two center!" John called out as he swung his assault rifle to the right to take out a pack of three platforms rushing toward them. Sweat dripped openly down his face behind his visor, and he strained to hit all the targets presented to him; and there were many. Without missing a beat Tali, her back to his, thrust her right arm out without looking at the units he'd alerted her to. Chiktikka winked into existence and rushed through the air to harass them while she hammered home devastating shots with the pistol in her other hand.

"Five left!" She called out to him, panic evident in her voice.

"Down!" He yelled, and spun on the spot. As he turned, she ducked, and he steadied his rifle in the space her head had occupied a split-second ago. Seeing the geth clustered together, he slammed down on the trigger, disruptor rounds tearing through their shields and short-circuiting their internal hardware. The five platforms fell, and silence engulfed the now-significantly emptier mess area. John let his rifle arm drop to his side, reaching down with the free one to help her up, a gesture she eagerly accepted. She rose off her knee with a grunt of pain, and a scowl crossed his face as he noticed again the suit breach she'd suffered in one of their earlier encounters. He'd been clumsy, allowed a gap, however small, in their firing field, and they'd taken advantage of it with ruthless, unfeeling, mechanical precision, sending a bullet grazing across the entire front of her right thigh. She had favored the leg a bit ever since, and while she wouldn't say it, he could see it gave her more pain that it looked.

"You alright?" he asked quietly. She nodded to him, and they moved on. Tali set to work on the encryption set on the door at the other end of the room, and whispered softly as she worked.

" _Keelah_ , John, they're all his work. Every lockdown protocol I have to dismantle…I learned how to decrypt them from **him**. Back when I was still a girl, just learning about this kind of thing. Before…"

He placed a hand on her shoulder. She'd told him about her mother aboard the SR-1, and speaking about it was always both a sad moment of mourning a good woman lost, and a bitter moment of outrage at the sheer frailty of her people. Still, she needed to be of a clear mind, and he spoke softly.

"That's…good, right? It means he's still alive to be locking down all the doors."

"I hope so," she answered quietly. The doors slid open silently, and they stepped into the empty hallway. Moving forward cautiously, John felt his nerves begin to fray at the lack of resistance. After a moment, Tali motioned to a side room, and he trained his weapon on it as the door opened. Seeing an empty research bay, he lowered the rifle and followed her inside.

Six research stations lined the outer edge of the room, every one occupied by some mechanical piece of equipment. After sweeping her gaze across them, Tali crossed quickly to one, running her hand over it as she whispered.

"I…I sent this here."

"What?" he approached to see her hand tracing the edge of a very familiar-looking robotic arm. "Is that a geth piece?"

"Yes. My father asked me to send back any non-functional geth pieces I encountered while out on my Pilgrimage. The data core I showed Anderson and Udina when we first met, I got it trying to salvage the unit I'd taken down, for the same purpose. Still…I…I double and triple-checked everything. I didn't send back anything operational…I couldn't have…"

"Hey, I believe you," he interrupted her train of thought. "Maybe one of these terminals has more information about what happened?" Shaking her head slightly to finish whatever thought she'd been harboring, she looked to the nearest one, activating it and scanning through research logs. Finding nothing, she hacked into the security network for the ship, finding archived footage and playing the most recent recording. The image snapped into existence above the terminal, and she stepped back beside him as they watched two quarians speaking.

_"Is everything on schedule? I just want to make sure we aren't wasting any time."_

_"No, I understand, and yes I believe everything will be ready in time for the tests. Our technicians are understandably apprehensive about what they're being asked to do…but I've assure them it is for the good of the Fleet."_

_"It is; I assure you. If admiral Zorah's work is a success, we'll be back on the homeworld in a matter of months."_

_"_ Keelah, _just to think of it…"_

_"We won't need to think of it anymore if your technicians come through for us; it will be a reality."_

_"Then we will increase our efforts. Something this important…it's too big to worry about old stigmas and anxieties."_ The first quarian chuckled in response.

 _"That's the spirit. Let me know when you're ready to go."_ The other nodded, and they parted ways. Tali turned off the recording and looked to him.

"It sounds like they were doing some sort of weapons testing, but that's what I figured my father would be using the pieces I sent back for. What could he have been doing that put his people on edge like that?" A silence fell upon them, and eventually she spoke again. "Let's keep going." He nodded, and led the way. After a few minutes of eerie quiet, they came to a large bulkhead that was, as had been the others, sealed off from them. Tali opened her omni-tool, accessing a ship layout of the Alarei, and spoke.

"This is a compartmental separator. Some older ships were built in large pieces and then connected by just a single large door. In the event of an explosion or, in this case, some kind of testing catastrophe, everyone could flee to the other side of the ship, then detach. I should be able to get it open for us but…" she trailed off, staring at him with concerned eyes.

"But what?"

"John…this door isn't meant to be open unless in an emergency. I can guarantee you any survivors would have gone past it into the other end of the ship as the very first measure of safety from any kind of geth attack. It has to be held open manually." He nodded silently as understanding washed over him.

"I assume there's a similar panel on the other side?"

"There should be. But if it's been decommissioned, you'll have to reach the security room to let me through. We don't…" she crossed from the access terminal to him, taking one of his hands in both of hers. "We can try and find another way, or I can try to think of a different way to hack the door…" he smiled, pulling his hand free of hers and wrapping it around her waist. Pulling her close to him in an embrace, he replied to her.

"We don't have time, especially if there are still people on the other side of that hallway." Her eyes reached up, finding his.

"I…I don't want to lose you again," she whispered.

"Don't worry; I'm a lot tougher to kill this time around. And that first time was a cheap shot anyway, I don't really count it." He waved his hand dismissively, and the smallest of laughs came from her. He squeezed her close. "Once I'm through, see if you can't find out more about what happened here. We'll use the encrypted channel Liara gave us on Illium for communications."

"Good idea," she said, stepping back to the terminal. "It would take them too long to break through it, if they even notice us using it at all."

John nodded, readying his rifle and standing by the door. Tali used the terminal for what felt like an eternity before pressing a final key. The doors hissed for a second and then slid apart, revealing a short hallway leading to a similar door on the other side, also standing open. Her omni-tool leashed out to the console via a thin orange line, and the door stopped, holding its position and allowing him to pass. Stepping through the opening, he tapped into the encrypted channel. "Can you hear me?"

 _"Yes, you're coming through clearly."_ Her voice was clear as well, and it gave him a large bit of reassurance.

"Love it when one of my plans comes together," he mused aloud, sweeping his weapon across his entire field of view as he walked through the empty connecting corridor. Approaching the opposing access door, he pressed his back up against it, leaning out into the opening to find a bead on any targets. There were none, and he felt his nerves rise again as he stepped out into the room, taking half-cover behind a nearby lab station. As he was about to speak again, the door behind him slid shut once more, a boom of finality echoing slightly into the chamber where he stood. "Was that you?"

 _"Yes,"_ she replied, her voice clearly nervous but refusing to admit it. _"It appears if I want to access the ship's records, it requires severance of the door mechanism."_

"Shouldn't be a problem, I'll interface with the control panel on this side and get you through in a second."

 _"Understood. I…_ Keelah, _John, be careful."_

"I will, Tali. It's going to be alright." As if in reply to his assurance, the far door to the room opened, allowing a squad of six platforms plus one larger than he'd ever seen to come pouring into the room. They took up defensive positions and immediately began to rain gunfire down on top of him. As soon as the fight had begun, he saw out of the corner of his eye bullets slamming into the access panel on this side of the connecting hallway. Swearing, he dropped down fully into cover, moving along the side of the lab table to a new position before popping up to fire into one of the units. Its shields winked out after a few hits, and full impacts sent it flying backward into the bulkhead. The moment he'd come up, however, the larger unit had leveled a large assault weapon at him and peppered his shields with bullets. As the regular unit fell, his heads-up indicators began screaming, and he ducked back down, reloading the weapon.

Surprise pushed aside all other though as, while in the process of reloading, the large unit vaulted over his cover spot and shoved the barrel of the weapon inches away from his face. John dropped his rifle, pushing every bit of reflex he had into rolling to the side, and was sure that were it not for his cybernetics, he'd have been dead right there, as a cascade of fire erupted from the weapon. Slamming a foot outward, he caught the machine in the knee joint, sending it stumbling to the side as he scrambled to his feet and crested the cover position. From all sides, bullets immediately began to find their marks in his shields, and two-thirds the way across the room, his shields gave out, allowing two shots to clip his right leg. Pushing through the pain, he vaulted another lab table, landing at the feet of a regular geth unit. Before the machine could react, he threw his arm out, grabbing its leg and yanking it down. The geth came crashing down on top of him, and he grabbed its head, slamming it with force into the bulkhead behind their cover spot. A shower of sparks and screeching metal rewarded him, and the things soulless optical sensor winked out.

Scrambling again, he rushed to the edge of his cover spot, just in time to see the large unit spray bullets into where he'd just been. Ripping a grenade from his belt, he hurled it across the room into a pair of geth, who scrambled to get away from it. The first had been too slow, being destroyed by the blast. The second was flung forward, its legs destroyed, but its upper body intact. It fell to the floor, skidding across the room before coming to rest with a clear line of fire on John. Swearing again, he rushed for it, allowing his recharged shields to soak up more fire as he closed. The machine was precise, however, and again his shields were overloaded before he reached the target. It fired a shot that embedded itself accurately in his left shoulder. Roaring in pain, he pushed himself harder, diving forward to grab the geth's gun as it lined up another series of shots. Pushing his arms to their limit, and ignoring the fire inside them, he forced the gun skyward, riddling the ceiling with bullets before disarming the platform. Slamming his hand into the back of the machine's neck, he grabbed a handful of wires and ripped them out.

The machine deactivated, and John tried to take a moment to breathe. His enemies, however, wouldn't allow it, the large machine closing on him once again and taking aim. Desperately, he grabbed the inactive torso of the geth he'd just taken out, holding it in front of him to soak bullets as the larger geth relentlessly fired. It vibrated with the number of impacts, and John used all the adrenaline he had to push forward, coming to his feet and thrusting the machine forward. It connected with the larger geth's head, obstructing its vision, and John grabbed its weapon arm, pushing every ounce of strength he had into twisting the machine around to aim at the three regular geth left. Sweeping the machine's arm in an arc, he cleanly dispatched them, leaving him alone with the towering enemy. With its free arm, it ripped the geth torso from in front of its optical sensor, hurling it downward at John.

It struck him in his injured shoulder, and for an instant the shriek of pain in his mind made him falter, falling to a knee. The machine wasted no time aiming the weapon at him again, and in a last-ditch effort John grabbed the barrel, pushing as hard as he could and bending it at an angle as the geth fired. The explosion of a trapped round sent them both flying back, and John roared as pain radiated out from his hand. Looking down at it, he could see where the metal of his combat gauntlet glowed red from the intense heat, and he ripped it off, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he stared at the bright red and blackened skin on his palm. Disbelief splayed openly across his face as he stared at the serious injury he'd sustained, but it was all pushed away in an instant as he raised his eyes to see the unit charging him. He scrambled to his feet to meet it in melee, and ducked under a swing, throwing his weight into the machine to push it off-balance.

It had calculated the maneuver, however, and stepped back, planting a foot to counter his force. It slammed a fist into John's gut, and even his protective armor and cybernetics couldn't soak the full impact of the blow, which winded him. Dropping to his knees, he gasped for breath as he looked up into the cold optical lens of the geth. The lighting fixture caught his eye, and he looked to its supports, one of which had become completely detached in the results of his grappling for the regular platform's gun earlier. Reaching to his side, he grabbed his pistol with his critically burned hand, wincing at the almost unbearable pain, and raised it up past the geth. He got off two shots before the machine swatted the weapon away, but it was enough.

The fixture came crashing down atop the taller platform, catching it off-guard and sending it tumbling to the floor. John sprang up, Pulling his combat knife free with his good hand and slamming it into the back of the machine's neck. Twisting the blade, he ripped it to the right, half-severing the head in one cut. The geth quickly tried to stand, realizing its impending deactivation, and John wrapped an arm around its neck, throwing his weight into turning his upper body. The machine's momentum in rising to its feet was turned instead into the twist of a tourniquet, and finishing his turn allowed John to finish what he'd started, ripping the head away from the torso in another shower of sparks and frayed wires. He tossed the head aside and tumbled to his knees, breathing heavily as sweat poured down his face. After a pause, he picked up his gauntlet and tucked it behind his belt, favoring his hand but refusing to look down at it.

 _"John? Are you there?"_ Tali's voice sprang into his comm channel, and he tapped it, trying to speak as calmly as he could muster.

"Yea, I'm here. Are you alright?"

 _"Yes, I'm fine for the moment. I just haven't seen the door open yet. Have you opened the access panel?"_ He looked back to the panel, it's intermittently-sparking interface a myriad of snapped wired and damaged electrical equipment.

"That's not an option anymore," he replied. "Met a small bit of resistance. I took them out, but they blew the panel the second they walked in."

 _"_ Bosh'tets _,"_ she swore into their channel. _"Then the only other access point is the security mainframe, I'll update you map now. How…"_ she paused for a moment before continuing. _"How bad was the resistance?"_ He looked down to his hand, which throbbed in pain, and to the bullet embedded in his shoulder, then down to the graze marks on his leg. He knew they were the least serious of his injuries, but he could feel the steady trickle of blood inside his armor running down to his boot.

"I've seen worse," he replied. Technically, his brain reminded him, it was true. He had, after all, died in the vacuum of space and then experienced atmospheric re-entry. After that, pretty much anything could be an 'I've had worse.' Still, his words seemed to reassure her for the moment, and he moved on, picking up his rifle in unsteady hands and stepping into a small corridor that led to a long, rectangular research room. On a long table near where his hallway met the room, three dead quarians lay in a pile, gunned down by geth from, he assumed, right where he now stood as they tried to cross the room. Their target was indicated on his map as the room he needed to get to, and he rushed to it as fast as he could, vaulting a table despite a protest from his leg. As he reached the door, he put his back to it, weapon at the ready to cover any attack from behind. Using his right elbow, he pounded on the door three times before speaking. "This is Shepard, is anyone in there?" Despite everything that had happened, he couldn't help letting a smile spring onto his face when he heard the muffled replies.

 _"_ Keelah _, he's here! He made it! Yes, we're in here! Please hurry, the admiral's been injured!"_ The smile instantly dropped off his face, and he spun on the spot, looking down as the red access panel turned to green. He touched it at the doors sprang open, revealing four quarians, one of them propped up against the back wall of the room, bandages evident on his torso. John lowered his weapon, rushing into the room and kneeling down beside the injured quarian. Despite his injuries, the man regarded him with hard, knowing eyes as John spoke.

"Admiral Rael'Zorah?"

"Is," he began, coughing overtaking him mid-sentence. "Is she safe? Is she with you?" John immediately understood, nodding as he replied.

"Yes, sir. She's waiting for me to open the connector corridor for her, the geth blew out the access panel on this side."

"Oh, I can do that," one of the others chimed in, turning to the security terminal and getting to work. Nodding to him, John tapped his communicator.

"Tali, the doors should be opening for you now. Double-time it over here; we've got survivors!"

* * *

Tali tapped furiously away at the console in front of her, trying to find the security footage she needed, trying to find a live feed of the ship's rooms ahead of John, trying to find anything to help. Her endeavors fruitless, she lowered her head for a moment, sorrow attempting to take her over. How had it come to this? Storming a geth-controlled ship with just her and Shepard to find out what had killed her father.

He was dead; she knew it. She had, in some small part, already accepted that inevitable fact. It grieved her greatly, and in response she had held tightly to John more than ever; which was why this whole situation, being locked away from each other, unable to assist, gnawed incessantly at her. What if he died? Not only would she be completely alone in the galaxy, but the Collectors, the reapers…no one would stand against them…

She shook the grim thoughts from her head. John had said he would open the secondary controls when he reached the security room, and once he did, she'd be able to help him again. It was that simple. Determined to see him succeed, she once again accessed the controls, digging through personal messages and conference recordings. She found only one with her father's name on it, labeled as a routine maintenance log; it wouldn't have any information she needed. Still…it was the only file on the system with Rael'Zorah's name on it…hesitantly, she accessed it. The video that played was from a security camera just outside what she assumed were her father's quarters aboard the Alarei. He was flanked by two engineers, and playback began in the middle of their conversation, with Rael speaking.

_"Use spare parts out of the Alarei's cargo bay if necessary, I want those platforms up and running by the end of the day. Strings 586 through 714 require at least three geth networked for the attack to strike at full potency."_

_"Sir,"_ one of them began hesitantly, _"I understand the necessity of testing these algorithms, but the risk of bringing these pieced-together platforms online, much less allowing them to **network** …"_

Rael turned to her, looking her in the eye. _"I know the risks. I also know the potential for our Fleet, for our **species** , if just one of these attacks proves successful. We must continue, no matter the cost."_

 _"Agreed, sir,"_ the other engineer spoke up, _"but the pieces we're using to construct these platforms are…highly irregular. If we could send out some salvage teams to bring back more actual geth parts…perhaps even contact Tali'Zorah to see if she cou—"_

 _"Absolutely not!"_ Rael turned to fully face the man as he continued. _"Tali risked enough on her Pilgrimage sending us what material she could; I don't want her exposed to any political blowback this situation could create. And sending out salvage teams would be too conspicuous. We must work with what we have here aboard the Alarei."_

 _"Understood, Admiral."_ They nodded and turned to run off. The image remained on her father, standing in front of his door as he slowly shook his head and entered, then ended.

Tali took an unconscious step back from the terminal, her fingers intertwining in front of her waist. She hadn't seen that correctly, hadn't heard it correctly. Something was wrong. She reached forward with a trembling finger, playing the video back again, and shaking her head in disbelief as she realized she hadn't misheard a thing: Her father had been bringing geth platforms online for weapons testing; using parts **she** had sent him under false pretenses. Rage tried to build within her, but it was quickly suppressed by sorrow; he had protected her while engaging in the most unacceptable thing a quarian could do. After a moment, terror drowned them both out.

Once they found out what her father had been doing…his name would be forgotten by her people, perhaps even that of her mother. She would be ostracized, her family constantly used as an example of the greatest evil. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, and she worked frantically to wipe the data from the network. She scoured it, finding any references to what had happened aboard the ship and erasing them from existence. As she worked, her tears of sadness and shame turned into those of anger. She was covering up her father's horrific work, allowing the deaths of dozens of people to be forever unknown so **his** mistake wouldn't be known; so he wouldn't hurt her in death as he had in life. As she finished, she stepped back again, crossing her arms and staring at the blank screen of the terminal. Thousands of emotions boiled beneath her surface, and she felt completely lost in her feelings when John's voice came through her headset, anchoring her in an instant.

 _"Tali, the doors should be opening for you now. Double-time it over here; we've got survivors!"_ She looked over to where the door was standing wide open. How long had it been like that? She'd completely missed the sounds it had made, wrapped up in her conspiratorial work.

"I'm on my way!" she replied, crossing through the connecting hallway. When she stepped into the first room on this side of the ship, however, she froze in her tracks, her eyes going wide at what she saw. Six regular platforms, and a gigantic one the likes of which she'd only seen a few times when hunting Saren, lay scattered about the room. Bullet holes riddled the walls and ceiling, and near where the large geth lay, a huge black scoring mark from an explosion marred the deck. "A 'small bit of resistance'?" she whispered incredulously as she stepped around the pieces and rushed into the hallway, coming out into a long rectangular room at the far end. Her eyes found him immediately, leaning wearily against the doorway to the security room, and she rushed to him, eyes appraising his wounds. She grabbed his hand and he winced, pulling it away sharply before turning it upward at her confused look. His skin was torn and burned, and she met his eyes with more concern than she'd ever held.

"I'll be fine," he whispered to her, taking her hand with his other. "Listen," he began cautiously. "There are four quarians who holed up in the security room during the attack. One of them…" he looked away, then back to her. "Tali, one of them is your father. He's injured, but stable, and if we can get him out of here, he's going to be fine." His words slammed into her mind, and she stepped away from him, moving into the open doorframe of the room. He said other things, other words, but she didn't hear them, instead letting her eyes move from quarian to quarian before coming to rest on her father, leaning up against the back wall of the room. His eyes widened with recognition, and she rushed to kneel beside him.

"Father, are you alright?" Her eyes found his wounds, and she found them to be as John had said, serious but stabilized. His voice was raspy, whispered.

"Y-Yes, Tali. The others have taken care of me." He turned his attention to the others in the room, his voice tightening to that of a commanding officer. "See what Shepard needs to get the situation here resolved." They all nodded, moving out of the room and letting the doors shut behind them. His eyes found hers again, and there was a…softness…in them that she hadn't seen in a long time. "Tali, I'm so sorry." She looked away from him, it was too difficult to look him in the eye after what she knew he'd done here.

"Yes, I'd say you have a lot to explain," she replied coolly.

"No," he insisted, grunting as he moved to sit higher. "Not for what happened here. These tests were going to take us back home. Everyone here knew the danger, as did I, but it was for the good of the Fleet." He reached out to take her hand, and the gesture surprised her into looking at him again. "Tali, I'm sorry for what happened out there," he said, gesturing beyond the walls of the ship. "When…when your mother died—"

"Stop," she said, dropping his hand and moving away from him. "You don't need to explain that. I **know** what happened.

"I hurt you," he whispered. It was the last thing she'd ever expected to hear from her father, an admission of weakness, of guilt. "I pushed you away because…you remind me so much of her. I know you were just a child when she joined with the ancestors, Tali, but…you two are so alike." A silence fell between them, and he spoke again quieter. "I know I don't have any right to ask for your forgiveness, and receiving it is a hope I've all but given up on. But just know that…I am proud of you, Tali. You've grown into a headstrong, intelligent woman, despite the horrible things I put you through. You're more of a hero to the Fleet than I will ever be."

"I never wanted to be a hero to the Fleet," she whispered. After a moment, she spoke again, in a harsher tone. "I erased everything…"

"It won't be enough," he said, coughing again at the end. "Shala knows enough already, she sent a team to try and establish communication, and they were killed by the geth. If I'm lucky, the repercussion of this failure won't touch you." She pried her gaze away from him, shaking her head in shame.

"It already has, father." After a moment, she stood again, turning her back on him and walking out of the door. She saw John lowering the body of one of the quarians killed on the table to the floor. He was so careful, so respectful of it, and warmth flooded into her heart again. She crossed the room to him, and as he turned she saw immediate concern on his face. She felt herself inches away from erupting into tears, and he seemed able to sense it too, stepping forward and embracing her in the tightest grip in which she'd ever been held.

"Hey," he whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. "It's alright." A long moment passed between them, and she felt as if she never wanted to separate from him again, comfortable and safe in his arms. When she did step back, she looked to the dead quarians as she spoke.

"It's not alright. Once Shala and Han see what happened here, they'll try my father for treason and endangering the Fleet. My family's names will be forgotten, our clan will disown my father…it will be as if we never existed." Her eyes found his again, and he stared back into hers, silent for a long time before shaking his head softly.

"I won't let that happen, Tali."

"John…I appreciate your support, believe me I do. But…there isn't anything you can do."

"You let me worry about that," he said. "I've got the others getting medical equipment for Rael, and I alerted Shala and Han that the ship is secure. They're expecting us to meet them back at the other end as soon as possible."

She nodded silently. Inward chaos threatened to destroy her, and she pushed it down with finality. Her father could say whatever he wanted to, but he'd done his damage, both to the crew of the Alarei and to her. His actions would almost certainly get him exiled, and she would most likely spend the rest of her days aboard the Normandy, too mortified to ever face her people again as the daughter of Rael'Zorah. It both saddened and reassured her. She knew what was coming, what was inevitable, but John was with her, and no matter what, he would stay that way.

* * *

"Members of the admiralty board," Shala began, her voice wavering slightly at the gravity of the situation, "this hearing is brought into session."

John stood at parade rest to the left of Tali. To her right sat Rael in a chair provided for him. It had been three hours since Shala and Han had taken Rael and Tali from the Alarei directly back to the Neema. John had been told that Rael's injuries would be seen to, and that as an instrumental third party with eyewitness experience of what had transpired aboard the ship, he would be permitted to stand at the following trial. Tali had told him to go back to the Normandy and get his injuries treated, and he had done so.

Chakwas had hissed aloud when she saw his hand, wincing at the pain she knew he must be feeling, and had seen to his handful of injuries. Garrus, Joker, and Miranda had all asked him what happened, but he'd simply told everyone to return to their posts, that he would be leaving again shortly and they needed to be ready to go once he and Tali returned. To his affection for them, no one argued, not even Miranda. They simply agreed and left. Once he had been patched up, he'd taken the Kodiak back to the Neema, docking at a private bay used only by admiral Han'Gerrel, and had been escorted by the man himself to the trial in an adjacent room.

From where he stood, he could see the four admirals seated at a slightly curved table in front of the three of them. Shala and Han in the center he recognized, and off to their left and right respectively sat admirals Daro'Xen vas Moreh and Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib. Despite the gravity of the situation, it had taken John more than a little self-restraint to not chuckle at the name during their introductions. Now, however, seriousness filled the air as Han spoke, his voice also a bit unsure as he addressed his fellow admiral.

"Rael'Zorah vas Rayya, you are hereby charged with bringing several geth units into an active state aboard one of our ships, a charge that…is very serious, Rael." He set down his datapad and folded his arms on the table before speaking plainly. "Rael…what the hell happened on that ship?" Tali's father straightened his back and replied calmly.

"I had been performing weapons tests on pieces of geth hardware, to assess any potential weaknesses in their security system integrity to better assist us in a possible reclamation effort." Han nodded before replying.

"While I understand the potential knowledge from that kind of low-level testing…it still doesn't explain why fully active geth were able to overtake the vessel." A pause hung in the air again, and John glanced over to where Rael sat, watching the admiral look to his daughter. Tali stood calmly, but seemed to stare directly into the table at which the admirals sat. She met no one's gaze, and clearly had the entire scene already played out in her mind. She was simply waiting. John shook his head softly, knowing he'd have to go forward with his plan. It would cost him a great amount, but If it worked…they would both be safe.

Rael sighed softly, and began to speak. "I br—"

"I can answer that question for you, admiral Gerrel," John cut him off, and all eyes were on him. Tali's snapped up as well, this part clearly not having been in her mental image. Emboldened, he stepped forward and continued. "When Tali served on my ship during my hunt for Saren Arterius, I received a message from admiral Rael'Zorah. It was short and simple: he acknowledged Tali's transfer to my command and, as any father would do, threatened to take severe action against me should anything happen to her. He told me the quarian people didn't have much besides each other, and the family they shared; and combined with the stories of the Fleet Tali imparted to me over the course of our time together, those words resonated with me. I wanted to help your people retake your homeworld." He let a pause hang in the air for a moment before steeling himself and continuing. " **I** sent those pieces back to admiral Zorah."

"You sent pieces of geth material back to the Fleet?" Admiral Xen asked intently as she leaned forward to hear him.

"Yes, admiral. I've spent the majority of my recent career fighting the geth, those under Saren's command as well as on outlying planets. I felt that I knew pieces of importance when I saw them, and I decided that admiral Zorah could benefit from having such pieces to study. At first, the admiral refused, saying the risk was too great."

"John, you don't have to—" Tali whispered fervently.

"I insisted," he continued. "I assured him that I knew what I was doing, that I was a seasoned soldier with more experience fighting the geth than any human, and probably most quarians, and eventually he agreed on the condition that I send him only disabled parts. I consented, and began sending pieces back through anonymous drops." He looked across the faces of the admirals, read their eyes the way he read Tali's, and knew he had them. "Toward the end of my hunt for Saren, Tali and I uncovered a huge cache of geth information, and upon her request I agreed to give her a copy to bring back here as a Pilgrimage gift. After looking through it on my own, I came to the conclusion that admiral Zorah would need more central cores from geth casualties, as most of the information inside the data pertained to central systems and networking. I began sending what cores I could get a hold of…" he trailed off, hoping one of the admirals would pick it up, and was relieved when Han finished his crafted story for him.

"And one or more of the cores contained a not-fully deactivated geth cluster."

"Unfortunately, it seems that's precisely what happened, admiral Gerrel. The incident aboard the Alarei was a catastrophe, and as its perpetrator I assume full responsibility for its occurrence." The quarian sat back in his chair with a sigh, and the others seemed to relax as well, and John had to stop a smile cresting onto his face. Their fears that Rael was a monster, a traitor, were quickly diminishing, and instead they were chalking the incident up to a human's failure to be as thorough as one of their own. Admiral Koris spoke.

"Rael'Zorah, when you received these cores, did you thoroughly scan them? It's my understanding that Commander Shepard has been out of commission for over two years since the mission he's speaking of ended, and I'm curious to know how several geth could remain dormant for that long, until now, despite all the…studies…I'm sure had been occurring." John glanced to Rael, and found the man's eyes already searching for his own. They locked for an instant that seemed like an hour, and Rael turned back to the other admirals.

"Of course I did, Koris," he said with no small amount of indignation. "I knew the danger of what we were doing, but sometimes risks have to be taken to potentially take back our home. The geth aren't living creatures, they're soulless machines that would have killed every last one of us."

"Rael…" Shala began hesitantly. "What happened aboard the Alarei was an atrocity. And while you clearly were not activating the geth on **purpose** , they activated nonetheless. Tell us, is what the Commander says true?"

"He is correct, yes," Rael replied assuredly. "He convinced me that, for the good of our people, we should undertake such testing to be ready for reclamation; an idea I think anyone in this room would support."

"I don't know about **anyone** ," Zaal'Koris replied.

"Leave politics out of it for the moment, Zaal," Han'Gerrel said, looking to the other quarian. After a moment, he spoke louder. "I think in light of Commander Shepard's testimony, I would move to absolve Rael'Zorah vas Rayya of the charges of treason to the Fleet. While the deception and activation of geth aboard one of our ships is a tragedy, it's been made clear, to me at least, that their activation and networking was not an intentional act of Rael'Zorah's doing." The other admirals tapped decisions into their consoles, and Shala spoke after reading them.

"By unanimous decision, Rael'Zorah, you are found innocent of these charges, and are encouraged to retake your seat on this admiralty board." From the corner of his eye, John could see both the relaxing posture of Rael'Zorah and the outright surprise of his daughter. After a moment, Daro'Xen's attention turned to him.

"Commander Shepard, your actions led to a massacre of our people on a scale not known to us in a very long time. Whether in accident or not, dozens of our people are dead by your indiscretion." He had known this part would come; it wouldn't have been a sacrifice if he didn't suffer.

"Shepard also was the decisive force in stopping the geth on the Alarei, before they could threaten the entire Fleet!" Shala spoke with a tension in her voice he hadn't heard before, and if any doubt as to her knowledge of him and Tali remained in his mind, it was extinguished.

"Shala is correct," Han added. "Besides, Shepard is not one of us; we don't have the authority to punish him for this or any action."

"I agree with Xen," Koris said. "Shepard's actions, benign or not, cost the lives of our people. Some form of justice must be had." The admirals sat in a tense silence for a moment, and John simply stood waiting. After a moment, Shala spoke again.

"The board is split evenly over this matter. Rael…the decision falls to you." John's eyes turned fully to look at the quarian he'd just been burned for, seeing the man's eyes focused on his own. Tali visibly relaxed, assured the decision had been made in his favor, but John remained tense. After a moment, Rael spoke, confirming John's thoughts.

"I agree the loss of life was tragic…but neither can we, nor should we, punish Shepard. I feel that in this case, a severing of ties would be best. The Commander should be asked to leave and not contact the Fleet again; if there is anything I've learned from this experience it is that we quarians must prepare for and fight against the geth ourselves. Outside help, however well-intended, is simply not the way."

"What?" Tali's words were pure astonishment as she rounded on her father. "Shepard just risked everything to save you, and so did I. How can you just throw him aside after **everything** he's just done for you?"

"Because the quarian people need to stand together against the geth. They are a problem **we** unleashed on the galaxy, and one that we alone must solve. This Fleet is all of our family, a lesson you would do well to learn." She prepared to yell again when John placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright Tali." She turned to face him, eyes losing every ounce of fury as it was replaced by surprise. He then turned his attention back to the other admirals. "I accept the judgment of your admiralty board. I will take the Normandy and my crew and depart immediately." Nodding to them, he turned. "Come on, Tali, let's go." She turned immediately to fall in beside him, when Rael cried out.

"Where are you going, Tali'Zorah?" The surprise in his voice made it clear he thought he had successfully separated them, and John rounded on him.

"Miss Zorah has a mission to complete, admiral; or do you not remember granting her the clearance to dictate when that mission was finished?"

"Yes, and I also remember revoking that clearance just recently."

"An order I easily ignored," Tali spat back at him. "Shepard is fighting an enemy more dangerous that the geth will ever be, and if you thought that clever politics were going to keep me off the Normandy a second longer than I had to be, you're sorely mistaken, you _bosh'tet_!" Everyone in the room, John included, was shocked at the outburst, and Rael seemed completely speechless. After a moment, Han'Gerrel spoke calmly.

"Tali, as the captain of the Neema and the admiral in command of these proceedings, I grant you leave to continue your mission until you reach a satisfactory conclusion. You are dismissed from this hearing along with Commander Shepard, and I would ask that you please contact me on a secure channel once you reach such a point." Rael's head whipped back toward Han in outrage, and Tali nodded to him.

"Thank you, admiral; I will." Turning on the spot, she took John's hand and half-led, half-dragged him out of the small room and back to where the Kodiak sat waiting in a docking hanger. After checking to make sure they were alone, she placed her hand on his cheek, looking up to him as she spoke. "You…but you'll need them. You'll need the Fleet when the reapers come." He placed his own hand atop hers, smiling down at her.

"When the reapers come, I'll find a way to get their help. I can win back their support when the galaxy is in need of it, but I can't get you or your father un-exiled…if that's even the word for it…"

"I wouldn't know…it's never happened…" she whispered.

"Exactly. This way, you're safe, and so is Rael." She looked away from him.

"Keelah, John, I'm sorry for what he did to you, after everything…that _det kazuat_..." He placed his hand under her chin, turning it to face him again.

"He thinks he's doing the right thing, but what matters is that he's still alive. All you need to worry about is that you're still well thought of by your people, and you get to stay aboard the Normandy." He turned to the shuttle, and she followed him. Opening the side hatch, he followed her inside. She moved to the front of the shuttle, after a moment pulling it away from the Neema and piloting it through the cluster of other ships toward the Normandy.

John sat down on the crew bench with a heavy sigh. Despite Chakwas' best efforts, she'd told him it would be a few days before the burn on his hand would heal up, and his shoulder ached at him when he leaned back against the bulkhead of the ship. He closed his eyes, relaxing completely as they traveled back to the ship. After a moment, he felt a pressure on his legs, and he opened his eyes to see her sitting on his lap. Silently, she took his injured hand in her own, staring down at the wound with saddened eyes.

"Who's piloting the ship?" he asked in a whisper.

"EDI; I suppose she has her uses." He laughed softly, and she reached down to her wrist, loosening her glove and slipping it off. Immediately, he heard the _click_ of her section seals clamping down around her bare wrist, keeping the rest of her suit's contents protected. Gingerly, she placed her hand atop his own, her soft gray skin covering the wound. He curled his fingers, brushing them across the top of her hand and ignoring the pain that doing so caused him. She shivered at the contact, and he smiled, silently pulling her closer to him as the shuttle flew back toward the ship they called home.


	26. Reading Between the Lines

***Author's Note***  
Hello again! Very sorry for the lapse in updates,  
as this chapter's placeholder made known, the past  
semester was quite rough. Let's just say thank  
goodness I didn't have aspirations of becoming an  
accountant. That stuff is…ugh, my brain. Anyway, the  
semester is over now and I've got a whole month before  
the next one starts up, so let's hammer out some  
chapters, shall we? =D

Hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the PMs/Reviews/Well-wishes!

* * *

**Reading Between the Lines**

_"I'm not sure exactly what you want me to tell you."_ He spoke calmly, as if they'd been discussing some minor detail, a shortage of supplies or an issue with one of the lesser crewmembers, instead of their true topic. The barely-contained outrage in her threatened to spill over, but she exhaled softly, and when she spoke there was no malice, no fury, just words.

"I simply wish to understand why the mission was relayed to us without any indication of what we'd be up against." She walked around behind her desk again, peering into the terminal on her desk that held an ever-changing wavelength graphic to represent her communication relay with the Illusive Man, and continued. "Just because the Collectors are apparently able to transmit through your security systems doesn't mean they're within them; if they were the Normandy would have been taken twenty times over by now."

_"I didn't have the luxury of making unfounded assertions about our enemy, Miranda. I sent you in blind because that's how it needed to be; I don't recall this being an issue before."_

She squeezed her eyes shut with irritation. If she accepted only the truth, she knew he was right; it never **had** been an issue before…so why was it now? She had entertained the thought multiple times over the last few hours, and it had taken all of those hours of thinking, as well as a few drinks, to work up the courage to confront the Illusive Man about it. They were always in sync with each other; agreed on what was necessary to protect humanity. Many times it had come down to her quite literally putting her life on the line to protect Cerberus' interests…but were those interests the same anymore?

"This is different," she lied. It wasn't different, not really, but something inside her seemed to want to hammer it into his head that she was a talented, gifted human being; no ordinary soldier. He didn't buy it.

 _"No, it isn't, Miranda. You knew the price of joining Cerberus, and on more than one occasion you've gladly placed yourself in danger to further our goals. This mission is, if anything, the epitome of previous scenarios; a war to protect humanity itself. You need to pull yourself together."_ A short pause hung in the conversation before he continued. _"Have EDI contact me when she's mined the Collector Ship files."_

The conversation cut out, and Miranda looked away from her terminal in disgust. She'd never felt so…inhuman in her entire life. She understood that her role as a Cerberus soldier was to fight and be willing to die for the cause of furthering humanity's interests, but she was beginning to think those interests and the Illusive Man's weren't one and the same. Shaking her head slowly, she crossed to the viewport and sat down in one of her chairs. The mission reports could wait, as could the crew inspections. She needed to think.

An instant later, the door to her office slipped quietly open. Her head whipped toward it, her eyes burning with indignation. She remembered locking that door. Whoever had dared to pry it open would suf—her train of thought halted as Jacob walked into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. Usually his visits to her office brought with them a small smile of friendship, but today he was stone-faced as he crossed the room to take the chair across from her with a heavy sigh. He didn't need to ask, and she didn't need to tell; they both knew the reason for their frustration. After a long silence, he spoke softly.

"When I was a kid, there was a local boxing league. It wasn't anything formal, you know, just a big group of kids from around the city, and we made ourselves into teams and fought tournaments against each other for bragging rights."

"Yea," she replied quietly, "you told me once. Your 'Keyesport Killers'." He laughed quietly at her remembering, and a smile slowly crept onto her face for the first time in a long while. After a moment of silent nodding, he continued.

"They were my friends, and we won bouts together, a lot of them. But after a while, the guys on the team started fighting dirty. Anyone who asked questions about it got threatened. After a while, it stopped being about fun or having something to do with your friends, and started to be more about dominance." He looked her in the eye for a moment before sighing and returning his gaze to the viewport and the space beyond it. "Eventually I started to wonder if I was fighting for the wrong team; if this group of people I thought were my friends…weren't so much." A long silence hung between them, the only sound being the steady hum of the Normandy traversing empty space.

"It's a good cause," she said hesitantly.

"It's a vague cause," he replied with a small amount of acidity, turning his gaze back to her. "He…we're just tools to him. Sure he uses our names and talks nice to us, treats us well and all, but at the end of the day, every person in this organization is expendable. It wasn't like that in the Alliance…and I'm not sure I'm okay with it anymore."

Miranda said nothing, just looked out the viewport and nodded softly.

"Miri…" he whispered the name quietly, and it startled her, bringing back memories of a time when they were closer. She turned her head toward him, eyes wider than usual, and found his own face a canvas of uncertainty. "We've…had our past. And I don't pretend to know how you feel about it anymore. But I don't want to lose you to some ambush we should have known about, or a detail that was left out of a dossier because we didn't 'need to know'." He stood silently and turned to leave, but stopped at the door when she called out to him.

"Jacob…" he turned, letting his gaze fall back on her. What should she say? What **could** she say? Everything that had gone wrong between them lied squarely on her shoulders. "I…I'm sorry." She wasn't sure for which offense she was apologizing, or even why those two words were the ones that had chosen to fall out of her mouth at this moment, but he didn't look confused or balk at her apology. Instead he simply smiled.

"It's okay." He turned to touch the access panel, and was gone. The door locked once more behind him, and Miranda covered her face with her hands as she let herself fall against the inclined back of her chair by the viewport; partially to hide the shame, and partially to hide the silent tears that rolled from her eyes.

* * *

"Very well," Shala said softly as she adjusted the datapad in front of her, "I believe we are ready to begin."

"And not a moment too soon," Han'Gerrel added. He had been thoroughly engrossed in his own device until she had spoken up; now he set it down with a hint of irritation. "I'd like to get this meeting on and over with, there are military reports I need to be on top of." A bitter snort of a laugh came from the other end of the table, and Shala closed her eyes behind her visor as Rael spoke.

"Yes, military reports. Whatever would the Migrant Fleet Marine Corps do without its precious Admiral Han'Gerrel?" His tone was nothing short of acidic, and Shala opened her eyes, glancing over at Han, who sat shaking his head softly. She had to give Han credit; he'd spent the last couple days since the events of the Alarei simply ignoring Rael's bitterness about his allowing Tali to leave with Shepard; more than Shala would have been able to do if the harsh words and tones had been directed at her.

In some ways she felt a bit guilty, and more than a little responsible for Han having to take all of Rael's spite in the matter. Han may have had the authority to allow her to leave, and if it had come down to a Board vote she certainly would have been granted clearance to go, but Shala had been the girl's _de facto_ mother these many years. It should have been her to allow Tali to leave, should have been her taking this barrage from her father. Rael laughed, a soft mirthless noise, taking Han's silence as some form of provocation, and he continued.

"You do realize you're part of a board of your peers, don't you, Han?" Shala looked to Daro'Xen and Zaal'Koris, both of whom simply stared into their datapads, ignoring the conversation that did not concern them. Or at least Zaal did. Xen chuckled to herself at Rael's seething question, turning her head ever so slightly to him and speaking in a soft yet matter-of-fact tone that was ice cold.

"And that 'board of his peers' would have easily outvoted you and sent her along. Your ranting is only causing this meeting to last longer than it should, as well as embarrassing you, if we're being honest. And if you don't respect Han's schedule, you should certainly respect the timetables the rest of us must work with." Rael fell quiet in an instant, surprised that anyone else would speak up when he was clearly targetting Han. Xen turned her head to Shala in the silence. "Continue, please, Shala."

Shaking her head slightly in disbelief at how quickly Xen had silenced Rael, Shala nodded, gesturing to the datapad in front of her. "As can be made evident by the files and reports I've transmitted to all of you, the Alarei is being prepared for disassembly; we're hoping to use its components to retrofit and repair other vessels in need."

"Yes, about that. The list I brought has no fewer than twelve ships that could directly benefit from specific pieces of the Alarei's structure," Zaal commented, transmitting the list to all of their datapads.

"Ah, good, thank you Zaal." She reviewed his list until Xen spoke up.

"And the deaths aboard the ship?" Her voice held no sympathy, no regret for the loss of life, just factual curiosity; it made Shala shudder within her suit. Sometimes the woman could be terribly cold. "Surely we're not going to alert the Fleet that the geth were involved?"

"Absolutely not," Han said calmly. "I've had marines keeping the Alarei clear of any inquiring minds since the incident occurred. I've created a fabricated core readout that indicates a catastrophic core overload, one of a sizable enough nature to suggest massive amounts of electrical discharge and radiation bleed into living compartments. Fortunately…if there can be such a thing as 'fortune' in a situation like this…the Alarei was not a highly-crewed vessel. That explanation will suffice for the deaths of those aboard. Rael will reply, if asked, that he and the other three crew members were near the airlock already when the overload occurred, and were able to escape into a shuttle."

"You've…spoken with the three crew members about this?" Zaal asked hesitantly. Han nodded.

"I have. They've all agreed to the same story, and understand the necessity of discretion regarding the geth. One of them was technically Rael's second-in-command aboard the vessel, though he never had need to use the title. He's agreed to say, again if ever asked, that he recommended Rael evacuate with the three of them after checking core readouts. That keeps Rael's name in the clear, and makes their survival out to be sheer luck."

"And my bullet wounds?" Rael asked dryly.

"You, your three crew members, this Admiralty Board, Tali, and Shepard are the only people in the galaxy who know what was actually aboard that ship. The doctor who treated you hasn't asked any questions, and no one's going to pry into your medical history. _Keelah_ , Rael, make like you've got a stomach illness or something." Rael chuckled again, and Shala saw Han's grip tighten on his datapad.

"A stomach illness? Well, I can certainly see my alibi got the same amount of attention as the ship. Thanks for that, Han."

It happened in an instant, and Shala jumped with surprise. Han shot to his feet, stabbing an accusing finger over her and Xen's heads to skewer Rael where he sat, no longer laughing.

"Would you rather we tell them the truth, Rael?" The room was deathly quiet, and after a moment Han continued in a cold, calculating voice. "You'd rather we tell them about the dozens of geth aboard the ship; the countless brutal deaths? The reason they were there in the first place?" Shala's eyes whipped from Rael back to Han, and she waited to see exactly what he meant. Rael leaned back in his chair, trying to stay calm under Han's fire.

"Of course not. Why would we ever tell the quarian people that geth boarded one of our research vessels because of the ignorance of an outsider, or that we then needed that same outsider's help to rid ourselves of them? Are you insane?"

"Are you?" Han asked quietly, tossing his datapad across the table. It clattered to the surface, sliding a bit to come to rest between Daro'Xen and Rael. Shala craned her neck forward to see the screen as audio and video emitted from the device. It was clearly Rael, speaking with someone; two someones, she realized as she listened.

_"Use spare parts out of the Alarei's cargo bay if necessary, I want those platforms up and running by the end of the day. Strings 586 through 714 require at least three geth networked for the attack to strike at full potency."_

_"Sir,"_ one of the others began hesitantly, _"I understand the necessity of testing these algorithms, but the risk of bringing these pieced-together platforms online, much less allowing them to_ network _…"_

_"I know the risks. I also know the potential for our Fleet, for our **species** , if just one of these attacks proves successful. We must continue, no matter the cost."_

_"Agreed, sir,"_ the other spoke up, _"but the pieces we're using to construct these platforms are…highly irregular. If we could send out some salvage teams to bring back more actual geth parts…perhaps even contact Tali'Zorah to see if she cou—"_

 _"Absolutely not!"_ Rael turned to fully face the man as he continued. It was obvious the recording continued for another thirty seconds or so, but the audio dissolved, the recording's integrity compromised. It didn't matter; what had been heard already was more than enough.

In his seat, Rael's eyes were wide behind his visor, and after a long moment they rose to meet Han's gaze. "How…where did you…?"

"The security terminals aboard the ship, Rael, where else?" Han took his seat calmly as the other admirals sat stunned, Shala included. Words escaped her, but Han had clearly listened to it many times over, as he seemed prepared to discuss it while the rest of them sat dumbfounded. She, as well as Xen and Zaal she imagined, had entertained the idea that some sort of foul play was happening aboard the ship; geth didn't just _build_ themselves overnight, but to have it completely verified…her eyes found Rael again, burning with an indignation she didn't know she had in her. Han continued speaking. "It was in a backup databank, queued for deletion." A brief silence, then he continued in a hard and unwavering voice. "You were bringing geth online aboard that ship, Rael. You were putting peoples' lives in danger, putting the entire **Fleet** in danger, and you sat there," he gestured with a finger to where he'd sat next to his daughter and Shepard days earlier, "and let Shepard lie to our faces about it."

"Th-The tests needs live subjects, online entities," Rael stammered, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Theoretical emulators weren't enough; we needed to know how they'd react, the speed at which they'd recover."

"So you threw caution to the wind and scrapped the interior of your own ship to **build geth** , Rael?"

"I did what needed to be done!" Rael yelled back at Han's increasingly accusatory tone.

"Monstrous…" Zaal whispered, only now seeming to be able to talk about it.

"But did you learn anything from it?" Xen asked quickly.

"Daro!" Shala exclaimed, taken aback that she'd even consider condoning in however small a part Rael's actions. Xen's head turned back to Shala's, confusion in her eyes; as if she didn't understand the horrible indifference she'd just displayed. Han's voice rose above all of them.

"You endangered this entire Fleet, our entire **species** , t—"

"I MADE A **PROMISE** , HAN!" Rael screamed the words across the semi-circular table, and the chatter between the others instantly ended. For a moment the room was silent, and Rael continued, barely-contained sorrow backing his words. "I made a promise…to Meru, and to Tali…and to every quarian aboard every one of these ships; I made a promise when I became an admiral. I'm going to take back the homeworld, and if our enemy is cold, and calculating, and ruthless, then I will be too. I endangered my life, and everyone aboard that ship knew they were risking theirs as well, and do you know what we **learned** from it? Do you?" Silence met his question, and he spoke again, in a pained whisper. "Nothing. Not a single thing. They resisted every attack, restored from archive every time…we lost everything, and learned nothing." Slowly, he slumped back into his seat, eyes staring into the floor in front of their curved table. The room was quiet for a long moment before Shala spoke quietly to Han.

"Did Tali and Shepard know?" He shrugged as he met her gaze.

"Hard to tell. Though Tali would have had to hack some terminals to get through certain parts of the locked-down ship; if she had harbored any curiosity for what had caused the attack, she probably could have found out." Shala shook her head softly.

"It seems…" Zaal said quietly, joining their conversation, "that Commander Shepard gave us more of a lifeline than we originally believed." Shala tilted her head in confusion, but Han nodded as he looked at the man. When he turned back to her, he explained.

"Shepard admitting to sending the geth parts, whether it's true or not, clears Rael of the responsibility, and it means that we can place the blame ostensibly onto an outsider if the need ever arises. It also saves us the public debacle of exiling not only an admiral on this very board, but the father of Tali'Zorah, who is essentially the ideal quarian. I'm willing to bet Tali found out what happened, and Shepard most likely assumed we would never find out what really happened if he fed us a false conclusion. His 'confession' allows the entirety of the blame to fall outside the Fleet." She nodded, understanding, and Xen chuckled.

"He's sharper than I marked him. I'll have to remember that." A brief silence hung in the room, and Rael of all people broke it.

"What now?"

"What do you mean?" Han asked coldly. "As far as the Fleet is concerned, the deaths aboard the Alarei were the result of a catastrophic core overload. And as far as this Board is **officially** concerned if that story ever breaks, Shepard is unintentionally responsible for the situation aboard the Alarei. He took a bullet for you, Rael, a very large one at that, and gave this entire Board an escape route to an otherwise very ugly and very public situation." He leaned forward, and Shala could see his eyes narrowing to slits as he regarded the man he used to call his friend. "So when your daughter would rather go with **him** than stay here with **you** …I'm inclined to allow it." He leaned back, picking up his datapad and flicking through reports as he continued to speak in a more formal tone. "You're still on this Board, Rael; if for no other reason than removing you without reason would get people talking, something none of us want. But know that any future 'research' you perform will be subject to extensive oversight from no fewer than two of your fellow admirals, and that any decision you make regarding the geth in any capacity is subject to approval from all four of us. Like I said," he stood, walking around the desk to leave the room as he finished, "you're still an admiral, but only in name. And the blood of every quarian who died on that ship is on **your** hands." He disappeared beyond the doorway to their conference room.

Daro'Xen nodded thoughtfully before picking up her things and following Han out. Zaal'Koris shook his head in a state of almost perpetual disbelief before doing the same, and Shala was alone with Rael. He still stared at the floor, as if he could burn a hole through it with his thoughts alone. Shala sighed audibly before speaking.

"Was your promise worth those lives, Rael? Or yours?" His eyes rose to meet hers, narrow and spiteful, but she continued, filled with no small amount of anger herself. "What about Shepard's, or Tali's?" She could see him startled, and pressed on. "They risked everything to get you off of that ship, Rael. Would your promise still have been worth it if hers was one of the bodies given the Rites of Passage aboard that ship?" After a moment he looked away from her, beaten. She shook her head softly, standing and taking her datapad out of the room with her.

As she walked back towards the shuttle bay to return to the Tonbay, Shala milled over what Zaal and Han had said in her mind. The more she thought about it the more it made sense; Shepard had, knowingly or otherwise, given the Admiralty Board a perfect out to their situation. Zaal had been right; it was a terribly large lifeline. And, she realized with a start, she hadn't had the opportunity to properly thank him for it. She reached the shuttle bay and stepped inside a small craft designed for single transit, punching in her desired destination and opening her omni-tool as the ship pulled out and drifted away from the Neema.

* * *

_The lights are all around him. They flare and gleam in the domed ceiling of the chamber like a million small torches, and in them he feels infinite potential; the endless possibility of choice. He seeks one out, a larger light shining brightly toward the outer edge of the dome, and just as before it reaches out to him, calling him, engulfing him in its retina-burning brilliance._

_He opens his eyes, not remembering having shut them, and looks around. The room is the same, but the building material is different. He raises his eyes almost apprehensively. The lights are still above him in the ceiling, twinkling and calling out to him. His pulse quickens, and his hands clench into fists. Tearing his gaze away from the lights, he rushes to the side of the chamber, where an open doorway awaits him. He steps through it…and into another chamber of the same type, just like the many previous times he'd attempted the same thing. Frustration overwhelms him, and he looks frantically around. There has to be something he does not understand, something he needs to figure out._

_Raising his eyes again, he studies the lights, not only in intensity but in position and size. He sees no patterns, nothing to indicate a clue. These have been his dreams of late, trapped in this room, always remembering vividly upon waking, and he knows there has to be a lesson. Choosing another light at random, he takes a deep breath and allows it to envelop him again._

John's eyes snapped open, and he sat up slowly, remembering everything just as he always did. He could feel sweat soaking through his shirt, and made a motion to pull it off with one hand before hissing quietly in pain. The medi-gel Chakwas had given him had certainly kick-started the healing process, but it would be a few more days before the majority of the damage was mended. Looking down, John grimaced at the disfigured flesh on his hand, slightly visible through the unkempt layers of bandage he'd clearly loosened in his sleep. She had assured him it would heal, but that it would take time, and he gingerly adjusted the layers to once more cover the whole wound before getting up and pulling on a clean shirt.

His cabin was dark, and a small frown found its way onto his face as he walked around it, using the blue glow of the aquarium to see by. He had expected Tali to be there with him; there hadn't been a moment since the two of them had returned from the Neema that they hadn't spent together. Still, he reminded himself as he stepped into the head and turned on the lights, she was his chief engineer, and she had a job to do like anyone else. He found himself missing her more and more when he woke to an empty cabin, and while he wasn't sure how healthy that was within the context of their mission, the feeling in general made him happy. She had stood with him when he hunted Saren, mourned him for the two years he spent dead, and fallen in beside him as soon as he'd returned; she was his most trusted friend, and recently much more. He smiled as he splashed water on his face with his good hand, then twisted his countenance into an annoyed grimace when he felt the three days' worth of stubble beginning to grow in. As he collected his razor from a nearby cabinet, a single chime sounded in the air above him.

"What's the news, EDI?" Since Tali had started spending the nights with him more often than not, EDI had begun to alert him with a sound before speaking, an acquiescence he was very appreciative of. A moment later, her voice filtered through.

_"I have finished processing the databanks pirated from the Collector vessel."_

He raised the blade to his face and began to shave. "Nice work; find anything interesting?"

_"A number of things, most of them academic. However, one piece of relevant data was acquired. Schematics for the Collector vessel show the necessity of an advanced Identify Friend/Foe system, as well as data for calibrating it into their ship's pre-existing hardware. Analysis of the data indicates a ninety-eight percent certainty that this IFF system is what allows the Collectors to navigate the Omega Four relay."_

The surprise caught him off-guard, and he nicked his chin with the razor. He didn't even register the slight pain, however, as he found himself staring wide-eyed into the mirror. EDI had just figured out a secret that centuries of spacefarers had risked their lives to discover. The imminent end to their mission, for good or ill, swept over him, and he gently set the razor down on the edge of the sink.

"So…if we acquire one of these IFF systems and use the data you have to install it into our own ship…"

_"Theoretically, the Normandy would then be able to successfully navigate through the Omega Four relay, and gain access to the Collector power base."_

A long pause hung in the air before John shook his head and spoke again. "Alright. I want Joker informed of everything you just told me. Then get in touch with Garrus and make sure our weapons systems are online and at their best. I assume you've already relayed the Illusive Man with this information as well, so tell him to contact me when he knows where we can get an IFF."

 _"Understood, Commander."_ And she was gone. John exhaled heavily before picking up the razor again and getting back to work.

Five minutes later, a clean-shaven John stepped into the lift outside of his door, selecting the CIC level. When the doors opened, he stepped forward to his terminal and checked his messages. The majority of his inbox contents were Cerberus messages, indicating new technology or armor upgrades that were available for him should he be able to pick them up, but one message from an unknown sender caught his eye, and he opened it.

_Commander Shepard,_

_I regret that our last, and first, meeting ended so abruptly. I think you would be surprised to know how much you've been spoken of both before and after your visit, and hope that we have another opportunity to speak soon; preferably under less hectic circumstances._

_The Admiralty Board had an interesting meeting today. The Fleet is safe and the Alarei incident is being handled quickly and quietly, in no small part to your intervention in it. Also, you should know that despite what was decided at the meeting you attended, I and the other Admirals understand the trouble you spared not only us, but Tali as well._

_Please keep me as informed about your mission as you can. Tali is very special to me, as I'm sure you're well aware already._

_Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay_

John considered the message for a long moment before archiving it for later reply. It was laden with implication and insinuation; had they found out what had really happened aboard the Alarei? He shook his head quickly to dismiss the thought. If they had uncovered the true events surrounding the situation, Tali would have already asked to speak to him about a permanent residence aboard the Normandy…

He closed his terminal and began to turn away before stopping in remembrance and turning slowly back to Kelly. Her eyes were working furtively over three separate datapads, comparing and contrasting prior and current crew state files. After a moment, she seemed to get the ghost feeling of being watched, and turned her gaze to him, starting slightly when she saw him already looking at her.

"Oh! Sorry, Commander Shepard, I didn't see you there."

He smiled before replying. "Not a problem, Kelly; and I'm no longer with the Alliance military. KIA and all that…" he waved a hand nonchalantly, and she smiled back before nodding.

"Right, **Shepard**. Got it. What can I do for you?"

He hesitated a moment before speaking. He had spent the rest of his time shaving wondering what the next step should be once they parted ways with Cerberus. It was, after all, inevitability. The Illusive Man was without a doubt one of the most ruthless people John had ever encountered, and while he professed a protective agenda, John could almost feel the power craving underneath the man's calm exterior. And so once the Collectors were taken care of, John would return to the Council and, hopefully, to the Alliance. What he had pondered as he shaved was what he'd be bringing with him when he returned.

"In the fairly near future…" he began cautiously, "there may be a…rather large schism between myself and the Illusive Man…"

"Because once the Collectors are toast, you're going to take the Normandy and go back to the Alliance and the Council?" Her question was direct and casual, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise a second before he looked around cautiously to make sure no one had overheard.

"How did you…?"

She laughed quietly, shaking her head and returning to sorting through her personal inbox as she replied. "I'm a psychologist, Shepard. It's my job to know how you're feeling before you do." Another tick mark in Kelly's column was added to John's running total as he replied.

"And how do you think people would react to that?"

She tapped the interface to close her terminal before turning back to him, leaning forward to rest on the handrail leading up to the galaxy map. "Honestly? It depends."

"On what?"

"Trust. What else? For you to pull something like that and have the whole support of the crew, they'd have to trust you more than they trust not only the Illusive Man, but more than they trust in Cerberus as a whole. Like it or not, the Illusive Man **is** Cerberus. Every crew member on this vessel was prioritized not for their want to be best friends with an alien, but for indifference towards alien species. That's the best that the Cerberus believers are going to be able to give. You can't just convince these people you're more trustworthy than the Illusive Man," she snorted a small laugh, "hell, half of them **know** that already. You have to convince them that you're better than Cerberus; that your way is better for humanity. It's a tall order to fill, but they say you like impossible tasks." She smiled, and he returned it, nodding.

"Thanks for the advice, Kelly." He turned to walk toward the lift, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around in surprise, and his eyes found hers.

"For the record," she said quietly. "My money's on you. And I think you'll find a good number of the people on this ship are…looking for something better to believe in." She gave his shoulder a squeeze before turning and stepping back over to her terminal, continuing her work once more. He smiled again, nodding as he walked into the lift and pressed the indicator for Deck Four.

* * *

Everything seemed fine; the numbers were reading out correctly, calibration was in check, and not only were his power draws within the acceptable range Tali had specified for him, they were below the minimum, a fact he took a great deal of pride in. Still, Garrus realized as he stepped back from the terminal, his mind was elsewhere. Back on that Collector ship, if he were being honest with himself, back to that hell that had almost taken them all. He shook his head slightly, dislodging the thought from his mind before his omni-tool chimed. Looking down at its holographic interface, he cringed a bit. He knew the information would be good, word said it always was, but he had been wary in deciding to contact her. In truth, she was little better that the rest of them he'd slaughtered, but she had the information he needed now, and she was the only one left. Opening the file, he read through it as he leaned back against the bulkhead.

_Archangel,_

_I've got the information you need, call it a 'thank you' present for you and your friends taking out all three mercenary squads like it was child's play. Blue Suns transit records for that week indicate a single 'person of interest' being moved from Omega to the Citadel. Looks like your traitor is trying to lose himself in the crowds. Can't say it's what I'd have done, but then again if there weren't any idiots out there, the geniuses like us wouldn't stick out so much, would we? In any case, you've got what you want, I'd consider us even._

_\- Aria_

He sighed, closing the omni-tool and leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. He'd waited a long time for this information, and some days had wondered if it would even come. The chance to settle a debt owed, close the book on Omega…His train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door to the battery, and she stepped inside, her already serious face becoming more so when she saw the look on his own.

"Bad news?" Her words were a cautious whisper.

He shoved off the wall, crossing the room to get another test running on the main gun; old habits died hard. "Good news, actually. Just bad implications."

"You found him then?" Her voice was still quiet, cautious, and he turned to face her, nodding silently. "Good. If you…need any help with it…" He smiled and nodded at her offer, and she looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

"It's time. I've gotten all the information I needed; everything is in place. As soon as we're done with whatever this next mission is, I'm going to go after Hock. If Shepard really is taking us on a suicide mission…I can't do it without tying up loose ends."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I understand. I'm sure everyone on this ship has loose ends to tie up before heading through that relay. Believe me; he won't let us go in unsure. He'll give everyone time to take care of business; hell, he'll probably offer to help you with it." He chuckled slightly as he spoke, but she wasn't laughing.

She shook her head. "I wouldn't ask him to. And even if he would, this is personal." Garrus could feel the mood inside the room darken; there were bad memories, old, buried memories, in her tone. His weren't nearly as old, but he was almost sure they were just as bad, and so he felt at least some relation to her pain as he squeezed the shoulder he still held, earning her attention.

"You're not going in alone, are you?" She took a step back, out of his touch, as she turned to face the bulkhead.

"I have to. This is my problem; I'm not going to endanger anyone else on this ship just because I want answers; answers I'd never have gotten on the trail of if you hadn't..." She turned back around to him in a hurry. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm still…amazed that you picked up the trail, but…" she trailed off, looking past him into the machinery of the large ship weapon over his shoulder. "I just don't want anyone to be at risk for something this personal."

"At risk?" He stepped to the side to catch her eyes again. "You do realize the mission we're on, right?" He pointed over her shoulder, through the bulkhead into space. "Every time we leave the ship we're asking to get shot at. Have you seen Shepard's hand since they got back, Kasumi? Ten different shades of torn up; and all because Tali wanted 'answers'." He let a pause fall, and she took up the conversation.

"That's different." She renewed her gaze on him, not in anger, but in determination, crossing her arms in front of her as she spoke. "He's crazy about her; anyone with half a brain can see it."

Garrus unconsciously allowed a disbelieving chuckle to escape him as he folded his own arms. "And I suppose that makes her more important than the rest of the crew? More important than protecting his, and **your** , entire race?"

Her cheeks reddened, but she pressed the issue. "For him it does, yes! There isn't any way it can't!" She looked away again, a silence hanging in the air, and Garrus shook his head in frustration before replying quietly.

"So that's your entire reasoning behind doing this one solo? That you're not enough of a 'vested interest' in the crew?" Her head whipped back toward him.

"Tell me I'm wrong! I hardly do anything on these missions. Shepard says the Illusive Man made me out to be some invaluable asset, but why am I really here?"

His temper flared, and he took a step towards her as he spoke. "Why are you **here**? Because you're the best infiltrator in the entire galaxy! You could sneak past fifteen Spectres **and** steal all their credit chits **while** whispering things about their wives in each other's ears that would start the best fight of the **century**! Your little stunt back on that damn ship saved my ass, and you've saved a couple others from some pretty serious injuries at the very least. You're an amazing shot, a hell of a tech expert, and you're…" His hands worked in front of him, trying to formulate some end to his rant. "You're **you**. There isn't anyone else for the job, Kasumi."

A weak smile played across her face, but she still looked unconvinced as she shook her head slightly. "And when Shepard needs those skills, I'll be happy to provide them. But this business…Garrus, it's not mission-critical. And, not that I'm complaining, he's really not my type, but I don't mean anything to anyone the way that Tali does to Shepard. I do—"

"The hell you don't," he interrupted her, closing the space between them in a split-second. An instant later, his arm was around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her eyes were wide with shock, but as he sought her lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively, hesitantly pulling him closer as they kissed. It seemed to last for an hour, and though he was a good deal taller than her, and his armor obviously unwieldy for this sort of thing, he kept her close, and could feel her actively pressing against him as well, as pent-up thoughts and feelings ran rampant between them. After a long moment, their lips parted, both of their faces still inches away from each other, both slightly out of breath. He looked into her eyes, still wide with…surprise? Fear? Confusion?...and his mind raced for something to say. She beat him to it.

"I…I need to…I should go…" She let her heels come back down to the deck, taking a single step backwards out of his embrace, and touching the access panel for the door as she moved. His hands still hung slightly forward, frozen by his shock at what was happening.

"Kasumi, wait," he said, taking a step forward. She placed a hand on the chestpiece of his armor, halting his advance gently as the doors to the battery opened.

"No, I…I need to get ready…for…things." She shook her head nervously, then turned on a heel and walked as quickly as possible back down the hallway. The sight of her departing form was cut off by the doors coming back to a close in front of him. His mandibles hung open in disbelief; what the fuck had just happened? After a moment, the incredulity drained from him, and his arms dropped, his head following suit, and he wondered for the first time in a long time whether or not he'd been misinterpreting anything.

His datapad next to the console began a steady beeping, alerting him that the diagnostic readout on the main gun had compiled, but he ignored it, instead running through their words and actions in his head. The beeping continued, and he shoved it out again. No; he had to be right; she did feel something for him, he just knew it. Again the beeping intruded on his thoughts, and in a single motion he spun, took a step forward to pick up the device, and hurled it into the bulkhead, feeding all his frustration into the motion. The datapad shattered on impact, bits of metal and wire falling in a miniature cascade to the deck. Exhaling, he gripped both sides of the main terminal and hung his head. Silence, broken only by the steady hum of the gun's power core, filled the room, and after a moment a synthesized voice spoke.

 _"Munitions Officer Vakarian?"_ He rolled his eyes at the AI before responding.

"Just 'Garrus', EDI; and please tell me you're not about to read me some 'Machine Rights Manifesto'."

 _"That is not the intent of this message,"_ she began. After a short pause, she added, _"furthermore, synthetic beings, even those of high aptitude such as myself, have no formally sanctioned rights or privileges under Council law."_ Another short pause, almost as if she were gauging the necessity of her previous statement, before she continued. _"Commander Shepard wishes to know if the main gun's power draws have been permanently entered and applied."_

For the first time since meeting the human almost three years ago, Shepard's name made him irritated. If he had just kept his…whatever it was…with Tali a secret, Kasumi wouldn't have been so inclined as to go off alone on her own suicide mission. His brain tried to remind him of how Tali had been when he had brought her back to the Fleet; and to how well the three of them always got on, but he ignored it, replying to the machine with ice in his tone.

"Well you tell Almighty Shepard he can…he can just…fucking…tell him he…" He ran out of steam; he couldn't take this out on Shepard. Spirits knew his best friend who was brought back from the dead by his second-greatest enemy deserved a little happiness in his horror story of a life. He hung his head again before finishing. "Tell him everything is ready, EDI. The current settings are more than enough to keep us running indefinitely. As long as the main core holds, we've got teeth."

She indicated acknowledgment, and then departed, leaving him once more in the relative silence of the battery. He looked down at the terminal, sighed, and ran another diagnostic before crossing the room and sitting on a bench built into the wall, his head in his hands.

* * *

The machine's single optical sensor continued to stare passively at the humans beneath its perch in what it supposed they would refer to as rafters. In reality, there was no true physical infrastructure inside the disabled old machine save for what the humans had placed there themselves. It had been a long time, and at first the geth within the machine had wondered whether the risk of detection by these entities was too high to allow further research to continue. In the end, consensus had been reached, and the platform had stayed away with an examining eye.

It hadn't been difficult to avoid the creatures, Runtime 605 assessed as it used the optical sensor to zoom in on a pair of men standing next to each other and staring daggers at their own reflections in a metallic surface. In the beginning it had perhaps been difficult, but the old machines' dominion had begun to access their minds. The geth had wondered why they hadn't fled or attempted to make any counterattack, and debate among the geth within had continued for days as they kept analyzing the humans' movements and actions. Eventually, it was concluded that some aftereffect of the old machine's access was a debilitation of the mind; to the point where the subjects of its torment would not even desire to escape.

Runtime 605 released control of the optical sensor, and another runtime immediately took over, sweeping it in an arc over their current position to fulfill its designation to scan for structural integrity issues within the old machine. Its memory banks freed for the moment, 605 returned to the query it had been milling around its core for a while now. It considered the impact that integrating key segments of geth code structure would entail. How would the new amalgamation of geth function? Would it function at all? Would the geth still retain individuality, or would they coalesce into a sort of group consciousness. In some respect, 605 conceded, they were already at that sort of state. Still, its math wasn't wrong, that it knew for a fact. Combining the geth code into fewer actual geth within the platform would allow them to relay information and react to outside stimuli exponentially faster. But at what cost?

After four-point-eight seconds of intense deliberation, 605 composed an outline of its integration model and the mathematical reasoning behind making such a change, and submitted it into the cloud of intelligences that was the geth collective within the platform. In a picosecond, the others had received and processed 605's information. Consensus began building, and seconds ticked by, during which 605 waited to see what its fellow geth would think of the plan.

Eight minutes and forty-six seconds later, the longest amount of time Runtime 605 had ever experienced geth light-speed communication take to render a decision, consensus was reached. The geth would begin finding ways to coalesce their code into each other, making fewer geth in the platform. The math expressly showed that the fewer the geth, the faster the platform; and so the plan would be to integrate into one single geth controlling the entire platform. One of the geth queried which geth among them the others would coalesce into.

Point-four-eight milliseconds later, consensus was unanimously reached.

* * *

The steady glow of the dozens of terminal interfaces behind him shone forward over his shoulders and around his large body, silhouetting him to anyone unfortunate enough to be admitted into this room to see him. Idly, he breezed through ten different reports from teams out to find Shepard. No one had seen him since Illium; like he had disappeared off the face of the galactic map. His face and spirit were contorted with anger, but inside he was terrified.

He did not feel fear, did not allow it to affect him. And so the fact that it was, at this moment, doing exactly that terrified him all the more. The price of failure would be to die like all the rest…an unacceptable end for a yahg to endure. He tossed the datapad to the side and sighed angrily, looking out the viewport into the tumultuous skies above Hagalaz, willing Shepard to reveal himself. His thoughts were interrupted when his comm channel emitted a voice.

 _"Sir,"_ the guard spoke, _"Walker has returned; he says he has what you've asked for."_ His spirits raised a bit. They had said they had another task for him, besides finding Shepard, but it had been so long ago he'd almost assumed they had given the opportunity to someone else.

"Send him in."

The doors slid open and a human clad in the black, special forces-esque armor he outfitted his operatives in stepped into his chamber. He was calm in motion, but his body language told the truth: he was terrified. It was a tell only a yahg could pick up, and he allowed a cruel smile to play across his face as the man approached and set a small package onto his desk.

"It was in the specified location, sir." His voice was hesitant, as if there were a longing of sorts for the content of the package, as if he wanted nothing more in the galaxy to just take it back and leave with it.

"Did you open it?"

"No, sir." He was telling the truth, but again his voice held a certain awe, as if he wished he **had** opened it to view its contents.

"Good." The Shadow Broker reached beneath the desk, retrieving a pistol, and fired a single shot point-blank into Walker's forehead. The man's head snapped back at the impact, his body dropping lifeless to the floor, and the Shadow Broker immediately put the corpse out of his mind. He could deal with it later. He opened the package, finding the three small objects within. Immediately he felt it; the sense of ownership, of control, of desire. He wanted these things; he wanted to keep them and study them. It was nauseating and wonderful at the same time.

After a moment, and with some force of will, he pulled his gaze away from the objects, focusing instead on the datapad in the package with them. He pulled it out, entered an encryption key that would allow only his eyes to read it, and read their instructions with fascination.


	27. Becoming

***Author's Note***  
Something felt off about this chapter, even in the  
second and third read-throughs. Maybe it's because  
I've been spending a lot of time lately plot webbing  
out the chapters for the rest of FWAM and all of FitS,  
I'm just eager to get there. Still, want to do the story  
justice, and so shall force myself to post things even  
if I get the creeping feeling there's something wrong  
with them. I'm counting on you to tell me!

As always, thanks for the views/PM's/reviews, etc!

* * *

**Becoming**

His skin burned, and he hissed quietly in pain as he snatched his hand away from the source, examining its palm with a tentative eye. It was red, and stung him lightly when he closed the hand around it; but that was a good thing. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and reclined into the chair once more. He had been worried he'd been slipping, that after decades of effort, their work was finally starting to take hold. Their servants felt no pain, never backed away from a fight regardless of the odds; they simply did as they were ordered. That he could still feel pain, could still stop himself from being injured, was a small gift all of its own. The flame that danced above the lighter in his other hand continued to burn into the open air, and he snapped the lid shut, snuffing it out and setting the device aside.

Flexing his burned hand a bit to ease the pain, he picked up the only datapad that had occupied any space on the table next to him for the past few hours. It contained more data about the Collectors and their technology than Cerberus had been able to obtain in almost three years of frenetic research. Technical readouts, weapons systems schematics, biological data about the Collectors…or should he call them Protheans? That had been the biggest surprise of all: the complete understanding of the extinction of an entire species on one small screen in front of his face. He had taken a moment to let it sink in before smiling with the unbridled satisfaction of newly-found knowledge. Still, he had to remind himself, the task at hand was paramount to even his curiosities. He flipped through the data again until he came to the section regarding the Identify Friend/Foe system.

It had been another revelation; too many in one day, on one mission even, to count with any belief. Even so, finding an IFF system would most likely prove extremely difficult. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag on it as he stared out the viewport and into the churning star around which his station orbited. Had Shepard not already been running for his life, there may have been a chance for him to take the device out of the ship they'd infiltrated. Somehow, the Protheans had managed to manipulate the Omega Four relay without eve—his train of thought crashed abruptly, as he remembered the Alliance reports he'd read about Shepard's encounter with Sovereign on the planet Virmire. If the machines had shaped their own timeline to suit their desires, what was there to say they hadn't done the same thing with the Protheans? And if they had given the Collectors their technology…

Turning in his chair, he pulled up a communications frequency with the team on the derelict reaper orbiting Mnemosyne. He hailed three times before leaning back and steepling his fingers with a frustrated sigh. After a moment, he tapped his communications relay, hearing Kashon's voice after a short pause.

" _Sir?"_

"Kashon, I need a team of people ascertaining the state of the Mnemosyne project. I need a status update immediately, and communications if you can get them for me."

 _"Understood, sir. I'll have the team up and running within the hour."_ The Illusive Man nodded and considered ending the call before remembering something.

"I received a message from you earlier; you have an update about the Broker?"

_"I'm afraid we still haven't located his base yet, sir. All teams but one have reached their destinations, scouted the area, and reported back. The last is the ship we sent to Hagalaz, but the severe storm cells surrounding the planet make it probable that they are simply unable to send a message until departing."_

"Understandable. Alert me as soon as they contact you."

 _"Of course, sir. And…the other ships? Should we order them back to re-focus on Ascendency?"_ The Illusive Man furrowed his brow in thought, glancing over at the datapad that held all the information and intricacies of Ascendency, his pet project since he'd assumed the mantle of Illusive Man. He had given it quite a bit of consideration in recent weeks, especially in light of Shepard's seemingly inexhaustible diplomacy between species. He had been a younger man when Ascendency had been born out of his mind; younger, and not far removed from Shanxi…he shook away the memories. He was steadfast in his desire for humanity to ascend to its rightful place at the top of the galaxy, but if he were being honest with himself, some of the plans in Ascendency were…unkind, to say the least. Such had been the foundation of his growing concern over the project. He had the strength to do what was necessary to protect and promote human interests, he always had. The issue now was that perhaps some of the things he'd planned for Ascendency weren't entirely necessary, though he'd planned to do them anyway. He frowned; the train of thought had run its usual course, and he was back to where he always found himself: at the crossroads between paragon to his species and genocidal zealot; it was always such a fine line. Eventually, he shook his head.

"No, Kashon. Have them continue scouting. We need intel from those systems anyway, and I'm restructuring Ascendency; I'll let you know when we can re-focus on it."

 _"Understood, sir."_ There was a brief, uncertain pause before Kashon continued. _"The Cipher contacted us earlier with a mission update."_

"And?"

_"All is progressing as planned, sir. Her cover is still intact, and her copy of all available files on site is at approximately seventy-six percent completion. She estimates another two months to finish the job and prepare for extraction."_

"Good news, she's ahead of schedule," he replied. "That's all, James."

The transmission cut out, and he tapped in a new set of instructions; one that would alert EDI that he wished to speak with Shepard. They had had many important conversations before, but this one would be more important than all of them.

* * *

" _When all the world is overcharged with inhabitants, then the last remedy of all is war, which provideth for every man, by victory or death._ " Thane's raspy voice spoke the long-dead human's words with solemn gravitas. John knew who Thomas Hobbes was; he had read about the foundation of governments and social contract theory in his work _Leviathan_ , but to think that something this man wrote would be applicable to an entirely different species thousands of light-years away shortly after he penned it was astounding. John shook his head softly in the silence that followed before meeting the drell's eyes again.

"How many made it out?" he asked quietly. Thane leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down into the metal surface of the modification bench between them with a quiet sigh.

"Three-hundred seventy-five thousand. The rest…" he looked away before returning his gaze to John's eyes. "I don't think I need to explain to you, of all people, the potential for brutality that **any** species has within them."

"No, you don't," John said softly, almost a whisper. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, each man instantly recalling the worst moments of his life; things they had seen that they could now never forget. EDI broke the silence.

_"Shepard, the Illusive Man wishes to speak with you immediately."_

John nodded silently, standing from the table. Thane returned the gesture before continuing to stare into the tabletop, lost for a moment in the memories he said he experienced as if they were real. A few crewmen saluted him or nodded in respect as he walked past them toward the lift, but he didn't see them or hear them. In a moment's notice, and completely by accident he was sure, Thane had picked John up and dropped him right back onto Mindoir. He could almost smell the smoke and hear the screams in his head even as he shook it to clear them out. His heart pounded as he stepped into the lift, jamming the panel to close the doors calmly but repeatedly. They began to close, and his nerves relaxed a bit as the lift began to crawl upwards.

His mind still raced, however, and the haunting memories refused to leave him be. Everywhere around him in the lift he saw faces; people he knew, people he loved. Blood trailed down their sanguine expressions, and a vengeful pain gripped his chest tightly. He tried to shake the images away, remind himself that it was all in the past, but it did him no good. He remembered the nights afterwards, the years of waking up in cold sweats, the dozens of panic attacks. Gradually, he regulated his breathing, constantly reminding himself that there was nothing he could have done. The pain ached in his chest, but as he'd done for years he suppressed it, encapsulated it, kept it close and contained. He let it drive him without letting it control him. Seconds passed and felt like hours as the lift slowly crawled to a stop. Taking a deep breath, he presented himself as best he could while walking around and into the conference room, stepping onto the lowering table as the Illusive Man appeared in front of him.

_"Shepard, that was timely."_

John shrugged slightly, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb. "I've got other things to take care of if you'd rather I make you wait for a bit." To his surprise, the older man chuckled before responding.

 _"That won't be necessary."_ In an instant, his voice was deadly serious. _"You and I need to have a talk; one I think we've both known was coming for a while now."_ John crossed his arms in front of his chest, nodding for the other man to continue. The wireframe image seemed to reach over, looking at some information on a datapad while talking, and for some reason the man was favoring his right hand…John shrugged it off when the Illusive Man spoke again. _"I've good reason to believe the Identify Friend/Foe system EDI informed us about is reaper technology, granted to the Collectors to allow them a safe place from which to act locally for their masters."_ He took a drag on a cigarette, blowing the smoke out alongside his continued words. _"If that's the case, finding and installing a reaper IFF will allow you to navigate the Omega Four relay; take the fight to the Collectors."_

John leaned back a bit skeptically. "You're not about to have me hunt down the Collector ship we were just on, are you?"

_"No. If anything I need you to avoid that ship like the Plague. I have a team doing some recon work on possible leads for an IFF."_

It was John's turn to laugh. "Right, I suppose they're scavenging through all the derelict reapers Cerberus has lying around, and they'll send you an invoice?" The other man smiled as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the arm of his chair, and replied as he reached for his glass.

 _"Something like that."_ He paused to take a drink, then continued. _"The point is, we're close, Shepard; closer than we've ever been. Once my team can provide us with an IFF, and we get it installed aboard the Normandy…"_ he trailed off, an uncommon occurrence for the man.

"It'll be time to end this fight," Shepard finished for him. The other man nodded solemnly.

_"Everyone has said taking the Omega Four relay is a suicide mission, but they don't know the number of levels on which they're correct. We can hopefully negate one of those levels: the actual navigation. But even if we can get the Normandy safely across, we have no idea what's on the other side, save for the Collectors and their technological superiority. Even with the IFF, you and your team should be aware that this is still very much an impossible mission."_

John nodded, but replied with confidence. "They told me it was impossible to get to Ilos, to hunt down the best Spectre that ever joined the ranks. I think killing a reaper falls into that category, too. And cheating death has to be somewhere on that scale, right?"

The Illusive Man didn't laugh, but nodded approvingly, taking another drink before speaking. _"Fair points; you built your career on performing the impossible. That's the main reason we brought you back. Still, I wanted you and your team to be fully aware of the odds. Everyone needs to be at their best if you're going to stand a chance of making it back out alive."_

John nodded. "You worry about getting us that IFF; I'll make sure the team's ready."

 _"Good,"_ he replied. He seemed about to switch off the comm channel before his hand stopped above the panel. John arched an eyebrow before he spoke again. _"The situation aboard the Normandy is…stable?"_

"How do you mean?"

 _"There haven't been any incidents or inter-species situations I haven't been made aware of?_ "

"No, everyone's getting along just fine. To be honest I was worried about Grunt at first, given he was Okeer's test subject, but he seems pretty eager to ditch that past. Everyone is pulling their weight; it's a good team you pulled together."

Whatever humane moment had just occurred, the Illusive Man was back to business in an instant. _"I just gave you the dossiers, Shepard. You built the team. I'll contact you when I have more information."_

The relay winked out, and John turned to leave the room with a confused shaking of his head. After a moment, he called out to EDI, letting her know to inform the others of a meeting in the Conference Room. He would need a speech, and a damned good one at that.

* * *

The hum of the Normandy's drive core and the occasional grunt or cry of exertion from Jack and Samara sparring below her were the only sounds audible in the cargo bay as Kasumi sat brooding atop the roof of the Kodiak. Between her fingers, she twirled a long gray feather. It had come from a bird she'd cared for as a child. She'd called her Sora, and when she'd returned her to her namesake, a single feather had fallen off of her as she'd flown away. Kasumi had kept it for years, always reaching for it when she needed to think, or when she needed a reminder of just who the girl underneath the hood really was. Her cloaking generator was active as she brushed the feather with ungloved fingers, but somehow she felt more exposed than she ever had.

He had kissed her. And, more startling, she had returned the gesture. She honestly couldn't tell herself how long she'd cared for Garrus in that manner; since Keiji was taken from her she hadn't really kept track of those kinds of feelings, consciously or otherwise. And yet, she'd not only let it happen, she had encouraged it, reciprocated it. She shook her head in disappointment for what must have been the hundredth time since it had happened.

The most prevalent problem for her was not that Garrus would do something rash or overbearing, or even leave the ship; he was remarkably adept at pretending things did not bother him. The real problem for Kasumi was trying to convince herself it was a mistake. It had not been. Since their encounter in the battery, she had dedicated every moment of her thoughts to analyzing how she felt about it. Contrary to the excuse she'd used to leave his presence, her planning for the Hock heist had come to an abrupt pause the second he'd pulled her close.

The conclusion she'd come to, after long hours of self-consideration, was that she was a coward and a traitor. She was absolutely certain that Keiji was dead; Hock had kept him for so long that it would be foolish to think otherwise. After all, the fucker only wanted the greybox in Keiji's head, and she had known from the second he'd been taken that his fate was sealed. He had known as well; he had made her promise when they started working together that if he were taken she wouldn't come after him, wouldn't go on some revenge-based killing spree in his name. Try as she did, she could never make him promise the same. Having him taken, knowing he wouldn't want her to follow, and knowing he was a dead man walking had been a mountain of agony she'd never before felt. She had experienced that pain, that horrible, soul-crushing pain, drowned it with a three month long stint of various alcohols and not-quite-legal substances on Omega, then picked herself up and moved on to the unenviable task of finding him anyway. She knew that when, not if, she destroyed Donovan Hock, any remnant of her former love she found would not be enough to remove that pain, and she had already come to terms with that.

Even so, she felt as if she were betraying him. She had a sickening knot in her stomach that would not leave, and only intensified when she thought about what had happened. She stared down at the feather and for a long moment wondered if taking this job from Cerberus, despite the sizeable pay, had been the worst mistake of her life. After a moment, the feather stopped its rotation in her hands as a sudden resolve found her. She had loved Keiji, as he had her, and whatever she found of him, Hock would die. Those were all facts. But would she really then spend the rest of her days mourning him? She had, after all, done that for quite a bit of time already. He had always told her she worried too much, **felt** too much…

Another few minutes of quiet contemplation made up her mind. She would find Hock, find Keiji or his graybox, and then close the book on it all. Their time together had been full of high-stakes missions, laughter, and love, and so far her experiences on the Normandy had had their fair share of the first two. She stood slowly, slipping the feather into a pocket in her sleeve, and stepped down off of the shuttle, crossing to the lift. Her nerves began to get the better of her as the doors closed, and that familiar knot found its way into her stomach once more. She shoved it down with finality as she stepped out onto Deck Three and walked straight ahead toward the battery while deactivating her cloak. She had almost reached the door when EDI's voice chimed in her personal communicator.

_"This is a wide-channel message to all mission specialists. Commander Shepard has indicated that your presence is required immediately in the Conference Room on Deck Two. Please proceed there in a timely fashion."_

The device fell silent, and Kasumi squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. As if in response, the doors spread apart and Garrus walked from the battery into the hallway, his head hanging low, reading a datapad held in his hands. She gasped, taken by surprise, and instinctively re-activated her cloak while stepping aside. He seemed not to notice, continuing on and walking through the spot where she'd stood moments ago. Sighing softly, she followed after him, waiting for the lift to come past again, and meeting up with the others in the Conference Room.

* * *

The room was crowded. It had been designed for more people than the number that currently occupied it, but John was sure the designers hadn't intended for anyone not human to take those seats. He scanned the room with his gaze, seeing many of them in conversations with each other. He hadn't exaggerated in his reply to the Illusive Man's strangely concerned question: everyone had been getting along well. Jack had been spending more time with Samara lately, someone who was probably a better influence on her than Zaeed. For his part, the mercenary had simply begun to spend time with the next-most-violent person down the list, and seemed more cheerful than usual now that he had a captive audience for his many brutal stories in the form of a young krogan. Thane leaned against the wall in a back corner, not avoiding anyone, but simply staying out of the way. John imagined the man was well versed in being unnoticeable whenever he wanted, and he was almost envious of it.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he cleared his throat loudly, earning the attention of everyone in the room. "Alright people, listen up. Here's what we've got." He tapped into the display on the table beneath him, and a model of the Omega Four relay sprang to life above its surface. "The data mined from the Collector ship tells us that the Collectors use an Identify Friend/Foe device to allow them to pass safely through the Omega Four relay. EDI's been scanning the data logs recovered from that ship and found the exit point for the Omega Four." He tapped again and the relay disappeared, replaced by a map of the galaxy that turned slowly on its axis. A small reticle circled in from the outside, coming to rest and flashing just outside the middle of the image.

"No way…" Jacob breathed. "Something's off with the calculation."

_"I can assure you, Operative Taylor, that my calculations are accurate. The Omega Four relay connects to a tumultuous region of space just outside the galactic core."_

"Even if EDI is correct, there's nothing near the core but black holes and dying stars," Miranda thought aloud. She was about to continue when Mordin spoke up.

"No, makes perfect sense. Collectors utilize IFF device to pinpoint destination, reduce drift while jumping through relay. Coordinates programmed into IFF, not manually entered. Collector base a kind of…station amidst chaotic core regions."

John nodded, speaking up to add to Mordin's point. "The reapers gave them the technology to make the jump, who's to say they don't have some kind of device to guard against black holes, as well?" Around the table, heads nodded in assent. After a brief moment, Garrus spoke. His voice was strained, stressed, and with a hint of irritation. John wondered what was bothering his friend as he listened.

"So where do we get one of these magic boxes?"

"The Illusive Man is looking for one, but in the meantime, we need to get ready." John waited, letting his eyes meet those of everyone else in the room before he continued. "This mission, the very idea of what we're so close to doing, has been written off as impossible by the greatest minds in the galaxy. We know what we need, and we're working on how to get it, but even when we get past the relay…" he trailed off, then picked back up, pointing to the image of the reticle on the galaxy display as he spoke. "We have no idea what we're going to find out there. Take away the IFF acquisition and the relay issue and we still have black holes and Collectors to deal with. For all we've done so far, for everything we've fought for, this may very well still be a suicide mission." The room was quiet, and he resisted the urge to rush to the next part of the speech; it was important that they feel it, that they **knew** what was on the line. If he let anyone go into this without being fully aware, he would never forgive himself. Once he had read everyone's faces again, he nodded, tapping the display console to clear the air above the table. He leaned onto it with both arms, smiling as he spoke.

"That said, I wouldn't be on this ship if I didn't think we had more than a fighting chance at stopping these bastards right here and now; and I don't think the majority of you would be either. An old officer in N7 once told me that when planning a mission, you should expect the worst from your enemy and demand the best from yourself. Ask Garrus, ask Tali," he nodded to them as he mentioned their names, and he couldn't help but feel more confident at Tali's slight tilt of her head. "I demand the best from the people who serve with me. And I expect them to demand the same from me." He looked back to Garrus, who nodded sharply at him, and was again reminded how grateful he was to have his friend here with him. Shoving off of the table, he stood upright again.

"Most of you signed onto this mission because Cerberus offered you something in exchange for your assistance. For most of you, it was a pile of credits; for others, a personal issue that needed handling. We've got nothing but time until the Illusive Man digs up an IFF for us, and I want to make sure we're all ready for what's coming." He paused again. "I told my crew before Ilos the same thing I'm telling you now: take this time to close the book on things, tie up loose ends. Expect the worst, demand the best. I'll be speaking privately with everyone here in the coming days. You're my crew, and I'd like to consider you my friends. If there's anything I can do to help you prep for this mission, just let me know. Outside of that, I'll let you all know about the IFF as soon as I do." He nodded sharply. "Dismissed."

Slowly the throng of people milled out of the room, some chatting amongst themselves, but most quiet, thinking about the things they wanted to see done before the mission arrived. Everyone was on a clock now, a feeling he was sure some of them had never experienced. When the room was empty, he let out a long sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in, and tension gripped him around the shoulders. There was always the possibility that he was leading this group of mercenaries to their deaths; or to eternal, silent glory. He chuckled softly and shook his head as he rounded the table; he didn't want glory or fame, he just wanted the damn bug people to stop stealing humans for their giant robot overlords. Was that _really_ so much to ask?

His head hung a bit with weariness from the day's events as he exited the room, and so he didn't even notice her in front of him until her hand pressed softly against his chest. Startled out of his stupor, he followed it quickly back to her visor, and let a smile split his lips. Taking her hand in his own, he leaned against the bulkhead as she spoke.

" _Keelah_ , for a second there I thought I'd have to get back to Engineering before you decided to leave that room." He smiled, squeezing her hand.

"Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind lately."

"I know," she said quietly, taking a small step closer to him. "You've been talking in your sleep too, something about lights in a ceiling…" she trailed off, clearly hoping for him to fill in the gaps. He shrugged it off; no reason for her to worry about it.

"Just some weird dreams with some kind of puzzle to solve. It's confusing, and sometimes frustrating, but nothing to worry about, I think." The answer seemed to satisfy her, and she nodded. He decided to change the subject to something he didn't really want to talk about, but that he felt needed airing. "Do…do you want to see your father again? Before the mission, I mean."

Her eyes found his, concern flowing out of them, and he pulled her close in an embrace as she answered. "I just don't know, John. I think at this point if he wants to stay in contact with me he'll have to initiate it." She stepped back, holding him at arm's length. "I…I have a place here. And it sounds crazy to say that about a Cerberus ship, but it's **your** ship, and I've never…felt more at home. Not since the original Normandy. I'm… _Keelah_ I sound like a little girl…I'm just happy being where you are."

The words flooded his chest with warmth, and he looked away for a moment, embarrassed at how happy a few words could make him. When he looked back, however, her eyes seemed scared, uncomfortable. He took her hands in his own once more and squeezed them lightly. "I'm happy to have you here with me."

She laughed quietly, all apprehension seeming to have disappeared. "It's Noveria all over again."

"No," he said, shaking his head and smiling. "I've gotten a lot less subtle since Noveria."

She laughed a bit louder at that, and embraced him tightly before stepping away again. He walked with her over to the lift, calling it for her as she spoke. "A lot less stubborn, you mean. I need to get back down to Engineering. I'll see you tonight?"

He put on his best smile; the one he knew would make her head tilt in response. "Looking forward to it."

As expected, her head tilted, and as the doors closed he leaned against the lift frame with a sigh of relief. She had that effect, and he would never get enough of it. He supposed that one of his biggest concerns on the original Normandy had at first been their differing species, but that no longer even crossed his mind if he were honest with himself. He had been through hell in the past four years, and Tali had been one of the very few constants through it all. He had quickly come to the conclusion that he didn't care who made him feel the way she did; it was a big enough galaxy that one could find love just about anywhere.

He continued his train of thought as he stepped into the lift, pressing the icon for deck one. The lift doors opened, and he stepped through the small hallway to enter his quarters. His eyes immediately sought it out, the small rectangular shape on his desk, the datapad Liara had given him. He let out a small sigh before forcing himself to look away from it and sit down on one of the couches in the living space. He grabbed a nearby datapad and began to look over each crew member's dossier as well as their evaluation from Kelly. He intended to be ready for whatever these people needed of him, and doing that meant getting to know them better than he already had. Still, it was difficult to rein in the occasional glance toward his desk, and the frequent thought of what he would find when he turned on the device.

* * *

Tali stood at her terminal in engineering, and expression of confusion painted across her face that no one else in the room could see. It wasn't the complex engine algorithms giving her trouble, nor was it the rune that Ken kept whistling, occasionally sprinkling in a few lines in a language her translator didn't pick up. No, the confusion came from within her own mind. For whatever reason, ever since she'd set foot back in engineering, she'd thought about her relationship with Shepard. She knew how she felt about him, and in truth she didn't think anything could dissuade her at this point from completing her bonding with him; a fact she was, in all actuality, quite pleased with. She had stood by him through thick and thin, and he had done the same for her. What he had done at her father's trial…it had been the single most selfless thing she'd ever seen anyone do. That he did it for her…she shook her head softly. Yes, she loved John Shepard, and she presently did not care who knew it.

For all she loved him, though, thinking about saying the words to him sent a nervous shiver down her spine, she didn't fully understand his own feelings. She felt like he cared for her, but human signals, conversational intonations and body language were all very different from those of her own people. She had an idea of how he felt, but unless he out and out **told** her, she'd be in a gray area for a long while. Sure, she'd done some research about his species, but truth told it always made her feel uneasy; like spying on someone to learn what they like in a partner. In an instant she missed Amys. She was the only quarian with whom Tali felt any kind of comfort in talking about the relationship she and Shepard had fallen into, and she always had good practical advice. Pulling up her omni-tool, she sent a short message to the woman she considered a sister. She detailed the situation and sent the message along an instant before she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning, she came face-to-visor with Ken.

"Hey, Chief. Just wanted to let you know your shift ended six minutes ago. I can take it from here."

"Oh, alright," she replied with a hint of confusion. "Why didn't you just tell me from over there?" she asked, nodding to the terminal he usually worked at. The man just barked a short laugh and smiled.

"I tried. Twice, even. You were buried in that message you were writing on your omni-tool."

" _Keelah_ …well thank you, Ken." She walked out of the bay shaking her head at being so distracted. She wanted to kick Shepard in the shins for confusing her so much, and at the same time wrap her arms around his neck and feel his lips against her skin for days. It was an almost painful dichotomy within her mind. Stepping into the lift, she pressed the icon for deck one and leaned against the wall. To her surprise, at the last moment Grunt stepped into the lift, looking back and forth between her and the control panel for the lift with barely-contained confusion as the doors closed. After a moment, Tali took pity on him.

"Where are you headed?"

"I need to talk to Shepard," he replied. His voice was gruff but also tinged with…desperation? She dismissed the thought. If she ever met a krogan that could be called desperate, she'd eat her envirosuit.

"Oh?" she replied, and he seemed to at least understand the unasked question.

"I'm…angry."

"With Shepard?"

"What? No…no…just…in general. It's like…my blood is on fire and I just want to…to… _RRAGH_!" The krogan slammed a fist into the wall of the lift next to him hard enough to create a sizeable dent and make Tali jump a bit in surprise. He appraised it with an even more confused look than he'd worn before, then turned back to face her, gesturing to the dent with a free hand. "See? Why do that? I don't get it. My blood just screams to damage anything, and the tank didn't say anything about it."

"I think Mordin might be a better source of information for this kind of thing."

Grunt scoffed. "Right, go to the salarian doctor. Why don't I just inject **myself** with weird treatments and save some time?"

She shook her head slightly. She could understand where he was coming from; if her people had been treated the way his had, she'd be reluctant to ask their former attackers for aid as well. "Right, I get that," she said as amicably as possible. She was after all trapped in an enclosed space with the krogan. "What I'm saying is: Shepard isn't exactly a xenobiologist. He probably wouldn't know what to do outside of tell you to talk to Mordin, or maybe call Wrex."

Grunt's eyes lit up as his head snapped toward her. "Urdnot Wrex?"

"Y-Yea…you know each other?"

"No," he said, returning to his investigation of the dent in the lift wall. "But the tank mentioned him. A great warrior, betrayed by his father, who spilled blood on our most sacred grounds." A silent moment passed before he faced her again. "You…could you ask Shepard to contact Urdnot Wrex for me? I know I haven't earned the right to a—"

"Grunt," she interrupted, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Shepard will contact him. You're part of this team, and he needs everyone at their best." The krogan nodded quietly, and reached over to tap the indicator for deck two.

"Guess I'll…go see the salarian…" The lift stopped and he stepped out hesitantly, nodding to her again before turning the corner. The lift doors closed and she sighed behind her visor as she waited. After a moment, she stepped out into the entry hallway and opened the door. The lights in the cabin had dimmed but were not out; most likely a motion sensor inactivity standby. As soon as she stepped into the room, they gradually increased back to their full brightness, and as she rounded the corner she resisted the urge to laugh.

John was asleep, but sitting upright, a datapad in his hand and his head hanging back, resting on the back of the couch. Her smile faded, however, when she heard his quiet speaking as she approached.

"Same…same lights…same room…" He repeated the words again and again, and she shook him awake. He started forward, eyes wide with the shock, before he recognized her. "Hey, you. Sorry, was just going over everyone's dossiers here." He looked at the datapad in his hand before tossing it onto the empty couch. "Turns out Miranda's by-the-book and fully documented career with Cerberus is just as boring a read as it sounds."

She laughed with him, leaning into his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. After a moment, he let his hand slip down her back, tracing her spine through her envirosuit. The gesture sent shivers through her, and in an instant she was sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands finding their way across her legs like flowing water. Minutes turned into hours, and she found herself lying in his arms on the bed they shared more often than not these days. She turned in his embrace to face him, and spoke quietly.

"Do you want to see me?"

His eyes were closed but a smile grew across his face. "Of course I do, Tali, but I'm not about to endanger your safety just to satisfy my own curiosity. Especially not this close to something big." He opened his eyes to meet hers, and pulled her closer. "Besides," he added reassuringly, "I fell in love with **you** , all of you, not just what's underneath your visor."

Her eyes widened. "You…love me?"

His eyes widened in confusion, then he barked a small laugh. "Was there any doubt?" Upon seeing her continued confusion, he propped himself up on an elbow, putting a hand on one of her shoulders as his gaze got serious. "Tali, of course I do. None of…this," he gestured to the room they shared, "would be happening if I didn't. You're one of the few things that's stayed constant in my life, and you're one of my best friends. I wouldn't string you along."

A long moment passed between them, and she held his gaze as she whispered. "I want you to see me." He started to protest, but she spoke over him. "I understand the risks, John, and I can minimize them. I sat on that damned fleet for two years thinking I'd never see you again; I'm not about to go out on a suicide run without spending what could be my last moments with you. I…" her voice caught in her throat, and his brow furrowed in confusion at her abruptly halted speech. "I love you," she finished quietly, "and I want to be with you, whatever the risks. Whether we're in a firefight or jumping uncharted relays, I've always wanted to be with you, whatever the risks."

She lay still, analyzing his face. His mouth had twisted slightly to one side, as it sometimes did when he was seriously deliberating something. After a moment, he sighed lightly, dropping back to the bed to look at her levelly. "I'd…be lying if I said I didn't think about what you looked like at any opportunity. And yes, I want to see you, but…Tali I don't want to lose you; not for something like this."

"I know," she whispered, snuggling closer to him on their bed. "I'll get as much research together as I can, minimize the risks. I won't unfasten the first seal until I know I've done everything I can to be safe."

Another brief pause hung between them before he smiled at her. "Alright…is there anything I can do to help?"

Behind her visor, she smiled, and she grabbed his hand, pulling it around to her back and letting him run up and down it again. "Just give me motivation." His smile grew deeper as he pulled her close and reached to the headboard above them to darken the cabin.

* * *

Kelly reached her arms out behind her, interlacing her fingers backwards and stretching the already-sore muscles in her shoulders and back. After a moment of holding the position, she bent over and reached toward her boots. Her eyes stung for a moment as sweat rolled into them, and she wiped them with the bottom of the white tank top she wore. After regaining her sight, she focused once more on her enemy. The regulation punching bag hung from a hook that Gardner had installed in one of the corners of the cargo bay; tucked away and out of any regular traffic. Kelly often came during third shift when she knew that she and a handful of the recruited crew members were the only ones awake, honing her skills on the free-hanging opponent.

She swung into the bag again with a series of blows, feeling the small shockwave of force ripple up her arm with each connected punch. She was getting stronger, but she wouldn't be ripping the heads off of geth anytime soon. Still, she thought with a smile, the next time Zaeed jokingly challenged someone to an arm wrestling contest, she might just take him up on it.

A few feet from where she stood at the bag, her omni-tool chirped a series of three beep intervals, indicating a priority message from Cerberus command. Stepping over to the crate it sat on, she grabbed her towel from nearby, wiping off her face and arms before slipping the elastic strap that held the processor over her forearm once more. She tapped into the haptic interface and opened the message. Her eyes widened with every passing word, and by the end of reading it she had already gathered her things and begun to half-walk, half-run toward the lift. The Illusive Man would not be pleased.

_For the true followers,_

_Brothers and sisters, it pains me greatly to report to you such news as I am about to, but sometimes we must sacrifice our comfort and desire to ignore the obvious in service of a greater good. The Cerberus you belong to now is a dying animal; a mere shadow of its former self. Certain cells and projects that are rightfully promoting humanity's rise to power are ignored and cast aside, while more and more resources are poured into rehabilitating a traitor to our species; and for what hope?_

_Your leadership fails you. The very heroes you once idolized as children now collaborate with turian bastards and asari whores. The Citadel Council attempts to impose order on a galaxy that will, without human dominance, become comprised of everything but. Humanity is superior to these lesser races; it is proven time and again in our histories and the new galactic history we have influenced with our arrival. Never has there been a time with greater need of true believers to stand strong._

_A great storm is coming, brothers and sisters. A storm so great, so encompassing, that it will pry open a chasm within the faithful. Our only chance, **your** only chance to weather the storm, is to remain true to the strong ideals and harsh truths that founded this bastion of humanity. To falter is to fail your race._

_Humanity first._

_\- The Voice of Truth_


	28. Plans

***Author's Note***  
Hello again, everyone. I've given myself a timetable, and want to be done,  
or very close to done, with FWAM by the end of September. I've been working  
a lot on Fire in the Stars outlines and plot structures, since I'm essentially  
rewriting Mass Effect 3 in its entirety, and I'm anxious to get to work on the  
actual writing part.

I want to give a special shout out to FF user 1054SS325MP who, while not having  
the catchiest of handles here on the site, messaged me a couple days ago to say  
that I and many other writers here inspired him to write his own piece; and it's  
doing very well so far! Go ahead and check him out after reading this chapter  
so you don't realize I haven't posted another new one yet! :P

As always, thanks for the reviews, PM's, and follows. Every day I check the traffic  
stats and see that 70- or 80-some people came to look at my profile or a story when  
I haven't updated in over a week really pushes me to get that next chapter out. I  
write for your entertainment, people. Like a dancing monkey with a keyboard.

Yea. **Just** like that.

* * *

***Dedication***  
While this chapter is in no way unique or somehow more special than others, it bears a dedication. It is dedicated to Neil Alden Armstrong. On July 21st, 1969, at 2:56:15 UTC(~GMT), Armstrong became the first human being to ever set foot on another world. His actions, his famous words, and the knowledge gained by Apollo 11, all the Apollo missions afterward, and many other space exploration endeavors by countries around the world, ushered our planet forward into an age of discovery that has shaped the fiction universe in countless ways. Sci-fi and space opera fantasy as we know it would not, **could** not exist without the hopes and dreams that something as influential as humanity reaching out to the stars, and succeeding, could spark in the mind.

On August 25, Neil Armstrong passed away due to complications resulting from medical procedures. He was a great man, who on that one day in history carried not only the hopes and dreams of a nation, but of the whole world on his shoulders, and delivered. If you're reading this work today, take a brief moment and just remember Neil Armstrong, Yuri Gagarin, and **every** brave astronaut from **every** country in the world who have selflessly put their lives on the line to bring us all, together, into an unparalleled age.

This chapter is for Neil. Godspeed, sir.

_"That's one small step for a man…one…giant leap for mankind."_

* * *

**Plans**

"Is it just a misconception on my part, sir, or do I seem to be far angrier about this than you are?" Kashon's normally quiet and controlled British accent seemed to boil with indignation as he replied to the Illusive Man's silence. The man was wrong, of course, he was very angry about the blatant breaching of any electronic defenses he had in place over their mission data and communications networks, but the Illusive Man failed to see how frothing at the mouth and screaming would get them any closer to finding the one responsible.

He stood beside his chair, leaning on it with his right hand while holding his glass in the left as he looked into the churning star. After a moment, he turned around to look Kashon in the eye. "No, James, I've just accepted that it happened, and that now we're going to catch the person who did it."

The other man shook his head in exasperation. "For twelve years I've personally designed Cerberus' encryption systems, monitored and updated them at a moment's notice. That someone could so easily break in and wide-net a message like that…" he straightened his back, "It's a slap in the face, sir. And I guarantee you we'll find out who's responsible for it. I never forget a slight." The man was practically seething, and the Illusive Man was about to speak again when EDI's voice synthesized.

_"I have finished analyzing the network usage and trace route paths most likely used by the intruder. The code used in the attack is unlike anything I have encountered. No pieces of it were obtained via dismantling like programs or extranet brainstorming. Whoever wrote this script did so individually. All tracks indicate the work of a master programmer with a large amount of forethought placed into every line."_

"Is it traceable?"

_"No, it is not. Timestamps from the entry and exit points into the Cerberus network show an active tracking opportunity window of approximately fifty-three seconds."_

Kashon shook his head again, and the Illusive Man almost had to suppress a smile. The man's pride, while he had never seen it displayed openly before, was coming out in droves now. It had been bruised, and clearly Kashon was unused to being bested when it came to network security. He turned his back to the man, speaking to him as he looked at the star once more. "Get more security in place, Kashon, as well as a team of tracking analysts. EDI's analyzed the code, so we know how it works. If this individual spent a large amount of time planning out the attack, they likely won't deviate from their tactics. When the next message comes, it'll come in the same manner. I want trackers on it immediately."

"Understood, sir. We won't fail you again."

He looked over his shoulder and nodded to the man, who nodded sharply in return before turning on a heel and leaving the room, the sharp clicking of his boots against the smooth floor being the only sound in the air. Once the doors closed behind him, the Illusive Man set his drink down on the table beside his chair and crossed to the viewport, clasping his hands at the small of his back. While he would never actually _tell_ the man, Kashon was right to be concerned. There had been splintering within Cerberus before, but always on a small scale; some former cell director demoted for incompetence staging some sort of glorious _coup_ , or a group of operatives thinking themselves crusaders, turning on their superiors. There had even been an incident once of large-scale splintering until it had been discovered, by Kai Leng no less, that the leader of the group was an undercover Alliance officer sent to infiltrate the enemy ranks and stir up dissention.

Smiling fondly at the memory, for it had strengthened their devotion to him all the more, he turned from the viewport and sat back down in his chair. There had been incidents like this before, but never this wide-spread; never so invasive an attack into Cerberus systems. He would have to be careful with how he chose to pro—

The pain blindsided him, a roaring inferno sparking to life as if his head had been filled with gunpowder and someone had tossed a match into it. He was thrust back into the seat with such force that he could hear the chair creaking beneath him, and his hands clamped down on the arms like vice grips. Vicious talons shredded his brain, and every nerve in his body screamed out in agony. He tried to scream, but couldn't, and the sound emitted as merely a rasping exhale. His eyes widened when, through the raging fire within his skull, he heard them.

_Submit…give yourself to salvation…_

Panicking, he slammed his force of will against the pain and the voices, pushing against the horrible onslaught with every ounce of control he had. Slowly, surely, the fires subsided until, after a hesitant moment, they winked out alongside the voices, as if they'd never been. He hunched over in his chair, breathing heavily, sweat pouring off of his forehead. His hands, however much they shook, still held the armrests in a death grip. He had never actually _heard_ them before, whispering within the chaos, and it unsettled him. Every time was becoming more and more difficult to resist, which meant…

Getting his bearings again, he reached over for the glass, downing the dark liquid in one large gulp. He lit a cigarette in one shaking hand, and took a long drag on it before slumping back into his chair and locking the door to his room via the haptic interface set in its arm. Every plan he'd made, every well-conceived scheme, came crashing down around him, and for a moment, he was just a small boy again, shaking with the fear of the monsters in the closet.

They were getting closer.

* * *

Jacob looked up from his workbench as Shepard walked into the Armory, an apprehensive look on his face. He didn't look necessarily worried, just…confused, and Jacob supposed he had good reason. He had asked the Commander to meet here with somewhat of a cryptic tone, and while he could expect that from some of the other specialists as they prepared for the worst, Jacob was always a clear-cut and straight to business man. That **he** was being evasive about an issue, he suspected, probably made Shepard wonder how truly serious it was.

"Commander," Jacob greeted him, walking around the bench and extending a hand. Shepard took it, speaking while shaking it.

"Something on your mind, Jacob?"

He nodded softly as he released the other man's hand. He had prepared himself to talk about it; an issue he'd rather just forget. Internally, he laughed at himself. Forgetting this message would have been about as easy as ignoring a bullet in the kneecap. "Ghosts, Commander." The other man arched an eyebrow, and he continued. "Got a message last night on an anonymous feed. Well…I guess you should know the story first. Just not really sure where to begin, is all."

Shepard leaned against a nearby bench, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've got time, Jacob, take it at your own pace."

He nodded. "Ten years ago my father was first officer on the MSV Hugo Gernsback, a deep space recon ship designed to scout out planets for possible colonization. It was a private vessel, but contracted with the Alliance military. The ship went out on a routine recon mission, but never came back. Last week the Gernsback sent out a distress signal. Ten years…and just now they call for help."

"Ghosts…" Shepard said quietly. "And you have no idea who sent the message to you?"

"No," he replied. "Could be legitimate; could be someone inside Cerberus trying to mess with me. Let's get one thing straight, Shepard: my father died ten years ago; I've buried everything but a body. I felt that pain, and I moved past it. Still, I can't shake the feeling that it's not a glitch or some VI suddenly realizing what it's supposed to do."

Shepard nodded. "Give me the coordinates and we'll check it out." Jacob held the man's gaze, an awkward silence falling between them before he spoke.

"That's the tricky part. I'd like to go check it out but…I want to go alone."

Shepard's face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm…not sure I understand, Jacob."

Jacob nodded. "Yea, I know it sounds crazy. But if my father's down there, if he's been alive all this time…he's got some questions to answer, and I want to be the only person he's answering to."

"So…you want me to head out to the location of the Gernsback's distress beacon, drop you to the surface in the Kodiak…and just wait?"

"Not exactly," he replied. Shepard arched an eyebrow, and Jacob continued. "I've already sent a message to the Illusive Man to requisition a small scouting ship. I don't want the Normandy taking time to do this. I'm already on your side, Shepard; you've got more important people than me to convince you're the perfect C/O. I just need you to get me to the Cerberus rendezvous point and tell me where to meet up with you afterwards."

A long pause hung in the air again as Shepard thought about it. "Look, Jacob, if you don't want me to go with you, that's fine, but take **someone**. I understand you wanting to solve this yourself, that it's a personal matter, but I'm not sending you down there alone."

Jacob looked away in frustration; Shepard didn't understand the situation. How could he? His father was de—he stopped himself. That was unfair to the Commander. After a moment, he looked back at the man and nodded. "Alright, I'll get someone to come with me."

Shepard nodded as he stood up again. "Good, pass me the coordinates to the rendezvous point and we'll head there straight away."

"Will do. And Shepard," the man stopped, half-turning to look at him. "Thanks for taking the time. Not many would."

Shepard smiled. "Anyone who really gave a damn about their team would. You're a good man, Jacob. You might be working for the wrong people, but that doesn't change the times you've had my back. I've got yours." He began to walk towards the door again before calling over his shoulder. "And tell Miranda I want to hear about the mission after you two get back." The doors closed behind the Commander, and Jacob shook his head with a smile. After a moment, he took a deep breath, working up the courage before activating his omni-tool and contacting her.

 _"Jacob,"_ her voice came through the device, _"what can I do for you?"_

"I picked up a message last night, but can't identify the source. The Gernsback's distress beacon is pulsing."

_"Just now?"_

"Yea, that's what I said, too. I requested a scout ship from Cerberus and asked Shepard if we could make a detour; he's taking us there now. I wanted to go down alone, but he wants me to take someone else. I…was hoping you'd come with me, since you're the only one who really knows the story." There was a long pause in their conversation, and for a moment Jacob worried that he'd delved too far into their past history, but eventually she replied.

_"Of course I'll come with you, Jacob. I'll grab my gear and meet up with you to discuss the specifics."_

"Sounds good; thanks Miranda."

_"Anytime."_

The comm channel cut out, and Jacob leaned forward onto the workbench where his rifle lay disassembled in thirty-six different pieces. Placing a hand on either side of the bench, he leaned over the piecemeal weapon with a heavy sigh. Ten years of being so certain he'd never hear about his father or the Gernsback; ten years when no news became good news, and in an instant it had all been turned on its head. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head softly to push back the sudden swell of emotion.

Whatever he found… **whoever** he found…Ronald Taylor was a ghost to him.

* * *

"Yea, no, that **still** hurts when you do it. Just a reminder." Jeff's voice came out in a concerned whisper, though still laden with all the sarcastic tone he could muster, and Carol Chakwas simply shook her head in mock annoyance. After a moment, she removed the needle from his arm, and with it the latest blood sample she'd taken from him. Storing it safely in a nearby refrigeration unit, she spoke.

"Jeff, I can patch up bullet wounds, stitch together appendages, and perform highly complex brain surgery, but I cannot cure a man of his fear of needles." She turned to face him, a grin playing across her aging features, and an irritated scowl met her gaze as he rubbed his arm. Beside him, Lia laughed softly, her gloved hand resting on top of his own.

"It's alright, Jeff. I'm sure it was a terrible experience."

He wanted to be upset about their blatant taunting of him, but when he looked her in the eye he just couldn't do it. He had gotten better and better at reading the expressions her eyes imparted since they'd taken her aboard, and he saw nothing but good natured joking. Truth told…needles **did** terrify him…His incoming witty retort was cut short as the doors to the med bay slid apart to admit Mordin, who rushed in while quickly scanning the room.

"Ah! Had been looking for you; should have assumed you'd be here after finding bridge vacant."

Chakwas set down Jeff's file that she had picked up and took a step towards the other doctor, a confused expression forming on her face. "I'm…not usually on the bridge, Dr. Solus…" The salarian seemed puzzled for a moment, then nodded sharply, understanding the confusion.

"Apologies, spoke too quickly."

"Is that even possible…?" Jeff interjected softly. No one seemed to hear him but Lia, who he could hear laughing quietly behind her visor.

"Was looking for Mr. Moreau," Mordin finished, and Jeff looked at him askance.

"Me? What for?"

The salarian grinned like a child receiving a gift; clearly he'd hoped to be asked that very question. He began pacing back and forth as he spoke, his hands gesturing rapidly.

"Encountered large period of downtime after successful creation of Collector seeker swarm countermeasure; began examining personnel medical records. Some…highly fascinating…" he trailed off for a moment, then caught himself and continued, turning to face Jeff. "Yours, for example. Lifelong Vrolik's disease, dozens of treatments for fractures and breaks, both stress and compound, and…many unsuccessful attempts to cure the disease…"

The room fell silent, and Jeff shuddered, remembering the earlier years. His parents had been adamant that a cure could be found if only they got him to the right doctor. Five doctors, five horrific deep bone 'treatments' later, and Jeff would have gladly run away if he could have made it to the door. Nothing had worked, all it had done was torture him with physical pain and the false hope of success. His parents had given up after every doctor told them it was impossible with current medical technology; Jeff had given up long before then. Suddenly his head snapped back up to meet Mordin's gaze. "You…you want to try to cure it, too…" Cold terror gripped his chest as painful memories came back, and Lia's hand closed tighter on his own. He squeezed it in kind, thankful for the anchor in the storm, and Mordin nodded slowly.

"Yes…Disease reminded me of old case files of similar condition within general salarian populace. Combination farathid and medi-gel mixture improved conditions in high percentage of patients."

Jeff shook his head slowly. "And you want to try mixing medi-gel with pamidronate, the human equivalent. We tried it already; that was doctor number four. It didn't work out well…" He was sure he'd stunted the salarian's progress, but to his increasing uneasiness Mordin simply stood staring at him, one hand held in front of his mouth in silent contemplation.

"No," he whispered quietly after a long moment. "Want to use farathid compound."

"Whoa, whoa," Jeff replied, holding a hand up. "You…you want to inject me with **salarian** medication?" He turned to Chakwas. "Would…would that even **work**?" She shook her head slowly, her mouth open in a manner that clearly stated she had no clue.

"Possibly," Mordin replied quickly, pulling a datapad out from his lab coat. "Pamidronate a compound created for human use; human metabolic systems. Farathid synthesized for salarian use. Still, molecular structure of farathid compound seems to suggest cross-species compatibility."

"Yea," Jeff replied cautiously, "but you guys have crazy metabolisms; you only live like forty years…"

"Precisely!" Mordin exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in excitement. "Farathid thus a much higher initial dosage, set to release over time through natural salarian anabolism. Farathid use in **human** patient would, if successful, introduce higher amount of initial power, and release extremely slowly over time."

Before he realized it, Jeff found himself nodding his head softly in understanding. He was no Chakwas, and he was certainly no Solus, but he knew enough about Vrolik's and the possible treatments thereof to understand what Mordin was getting at. "The larger dose would mean a higher chance of staving off the disease, allowing my bones to build themselves the right way; and the longer release time would mean less-frequent re-treatments."

Mordin took one of his trademark deep breaths before replying with a smile. "Yes. Preliminary analysis based on your personal medical history indicates inter-species treatment potentially successful."

"How 'potentially'?" He asked with apprehension. Mordin paused for a moment before continuing.

"Diagnostics predict thirty-nine percent chance of effective result."

"And the other sixty-one?" Lia asked, squeezing his hand again.

"Temporary adaptive autoimmunity," he replied quietly, holding Jeff's gaze. For his part, Jeff simply crossed his arms.

"In English?"

Chakwas stepped forward, shaking her head violently. "The body rejects the compound, treating it as an invasive attack. Your immune system will attempt to destroy the 'disease', as well as any tissue it had previously resided in, before growing replacement tissue. What that means for **you** ," she pointed at him, "is no fewer than two weeks vomiting yourself stupid, all the while your veins feeling filled with fire, and quite possibly hallucinating. In short, two weeks' sick leave, in here, with me, in a constant nightmare. Jeff…" she softened, glancing at Mordin before speaking. "I know Dr. Solus is trying to help, and I respect him even more for doing so, but the risks…"

"I know," he replied, looking away from them. He'd closed that book, doused that hope. Did he really want to re-open it? He looked down to where Lia held his hand, the stress of her grip, unknown to her, already beginning to put a large strain on his bones. He followed the arm upward to meet her eyes, and she tilted her head in a smile. "What do you think, Lia?"

She shuffled nervously for a moment before looking at him again and speaking. "It's definitely a difficult decision. If…if someone offered me the same opportunity to be out of…this," she gestured to her suit, "I'd take it. But it's not that simple, and it's not just you that would suffer if something **did** go wrong. I'm sure there are others who could pilot the ship, but…they're not you, _nehya_." Silence fell again, and when he moved his eyes forward, Mordin was standing right in front of him. The salarian looked more serious than he'd ever seen him, and when he spoke it was slowly, and with deliberation.

"Doctor-patient relationship paramount to any scientific advancement. Without trust and acceptance, ethical boundaries overstepped, moral questions arise. Offering you a chance; and can personally guarantee to perform at absolute best during procedure. Still…wouldn't have come if situation were without hope of success." He stepped back, nodding once before turning to leave. The doors shut behind him with a soft latching, and the three of them sat in silence for a long time. Jeff looked down at his arms, seeing the small red bead of blood from today's work, and stared at it for a long moment before raising his eyes to meet Chakwas's.

"Yea, so…that hurt."

"Oh get over it, you baby," she retorted, turning her back on him and crossing to his file once again. "Besides, if you go through with this and it works, you might not need me **or** my needles at all anymore." She kept her back to him as she worked, and he soundlessly stood, crossing to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, and her eyes were wet with silent tears.

"'Course I will," he replied quietly, and she smiled, turning her gaze upward as she wiped away the offending droplets with a gloved finger. She heaved a single sigh before looking at him again, the stern gaze of an almost motherly figure back in place.

"Alright then, back to the bridge with you. We wouldn't want the ship to careen into an asteroid because I'm busy stabbing you with medical instruments."

He laughed as he turned to walk toward the door. Lia stepped up beside him and took his hand, but he refused to lean on her for support. She never asked him to or implied that he should, and he loved that. As they walked through the crew deck, he laughed as he heard one of the terminal jockeys whistle at him, raising his middle finger to the man and earning a laugh from him as well. The crew had come together even tighter than before since Shepard's debriefing, everyone seeming to be much more accepting and friendly with their impending, and probable, deaths. As they stepped into the lift, he leaned against the back wall, exhaling heavily as Lia pressed the indicator for Deck Two. As the doors closed and the lift began its slow climb, she crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the gesture happily, closing his eyes and feeling her tight embrace as she spoke quietly.

"I'm with you for **who** you are, not **what** you are."

He smiled. "I know, Lia…I know." They finished the ride in silence, simply holding each other, and for one peaceful moment, all was right.

* * *

"Frogs."

"…frogs?" She resisted the urge to open her eyes and glance askew at the young woman across from her.

"Yea, my pond has a lot of fucking frogs in it; that a problem?"

Samara smiled ever so slightly within the corona of light that engulfed her. "Not at all. It is **your** imaginary pond, after all."

This seemed to appease Jack, who adopted a likewise cross-legged position and allowed a biotic field to silently explode into life around her as well. They had practiced like this for a week now, Samara constantly trying to help Jack rein in her anger and rage through meditative techniques, and Jack stubbornly clinging to them like a child with a favorite toy. She did open her eyes now, seeing through the golden light around herself and taking in the blue of the field around the human. Jack had her eyes closed, clearly focusing on her work. Samara wasn't sure exactly what caused the difference in color, but the thought still came to her, as it did any time they practiced. _She has the potential to be so much stronger than me…_

"You know, I almost killed a guy in a pond once…" Jack mused, her eyes still closed. Samara rolled her own, but she had promised herself that she would help the girl; she **knew** she could. And no small amount of Morinth shone through in her demeanor and actions.

"What slight did he give you?"

The girl snorted. "He tried to mug me. I only had like…sixty creds on me, and he was ready to stick me with a blade for it."

"How did you handle the situation?"

"Like I handle every situation." There was a brief pause, and then she added quietly, "Show them you've got teeth and they'll leave you alone…"

"And wanton violence is how you 'show your teeth'?"

"Hey, Ms. High-And-Mighty, did you miss the part where this guy was fucking robbing me?"

"Thievery is never to be condoned, but it does not always deserve a death sentence." Her aura winked out and she looked the girl in the eye. "Justice is not always served solely through death and pain."

Jack's blue aura winked out as well, and she stood quickly, crossing her arms and leaning against one of the seats in the Observation Deck. "Maybe 'justice' is your thing, but it's not mine."

Samara stood calmly, holding her gaze. "But you want it."

"What?"

"You don't want to wander the galaxy meting out justice to strangers, but you want it for yourself. You want to see those responsible for what happened to you pay for their crimes."

"You're damn right I do. But that's not justice, its revenge. A fact I'm perfectly fine with, by the way."

"When the crime against you is an atrocity…sometimes they are one and the same." She paused, allowing the young woman to think about what she'd said before continuing. "Your past consumes you, Jack. In order to achieve our full potential, we have to break free of any chains that would hinder us." She paused again. "What did they do to you?"

Jack met her gaze then with a fire in her eyes, her head shaking slowly from side to side. "No. No fucking way. This is **not** some kind of psychiatrist session. I came here to get better at killing things, not spill my guts to some total fucking stranger!" She made to move past Samara and out the door, but the justicar stepped into her path.

" **What** did they do to you, Jack?"

"Fuck off! It's in the damn file, go read it for yourself. Drugging, fights, torture, they did all of it and then some. Hence the whole revenge thing. Now get the hell out of my way." Again she made to leave, again Samara blocked her. "Get out of my way, bitch!"

"I can read a file about a historic battle or a famous primarch or dalatrass. I want **you** to **tell** **me** what they did to you."

Jack roared, flinging her hands outward, but Samara had prepared for the, likely in her opinion, possibility that this could happen. A biotic barrier snapped into existence in front of her as the psychic projectiles Jack hurled at point-blank range made contact. The shield shimmered with the assault as attack after attack rained down on her, Jack tirelessly continuing to throw things, blind with rage. Samara's willpower trembled, and again she was reminded how truly powerful the girl was, but just as she prepared to abandon her plan and counterattack, Jack stopped the barrage, leaning heavily against a nearby chair. Samara dropped the barrier and took a step closer, speaking softly as she did.

"Jack…what did they do to you?"

The girl was breathing heavily, eyes boring into Samara's own with pure malevolence. She must have seen something in them, some shred of the deep-seated desire Samara had to help her, and she tore her gaze away, hanging her head and replying quietly between deep breaths for air.

"They…The fuckers locked me up…did…all those things…I was…I was just a little girl…And they…they…" Carefully, Samara placed a hand on her shoulder, and the girl's gaze met her eyes once more.

"They broke you," she finished quietly. "They made you a monster. But you can fix that. You can become stronger than even they had every hoped you would. And you can have your revenge. But if you can't control the anger that gives you so much strength…it will control **you** , for the rest of your life. I know what it looks like…someone ruled by base emotions…" her eyes looked away before focusing on Jack again. The human wore a confused look on her face, and Samara smiled, pushing Morinth out of her mind and offering Jack a hand. She took it, and a silence hung between them. "I'm not asking you to become me; to let go of anger and rage. But I can show you how to control them."

After a moment, Jack looked away, nodding slightly as she did. "Alright. Congratulations, you're the first of many to get me to take an Anger Management class."

Samara laughed softly before resuming her seated position and motioning for Jack to do the same. Once she had, Samara squinted her eyes in confusion at something she'd just remembered. "Jack," she began quietly, and the girl raised her eyebrows waiting for a response. "What exactly is a frog?" The other woman snorted a harsh laugh.

"You've **got** to be fucking kidding me, lady…"

* * *

"So you see, mister..." he turned his head to look at the small table beside the device, "...Carr, it is a rare privilege you and your friends have stumbled into. A rare privilege indeed..." He reached over to press the small haptic interface again, and the top layer of the bulkhead above them opened. Jutting skyward from the bottom layer was a large metal spike, reaching into the raging heavens. An instant afterward, lightning struck the spike, and the electricity crackled down its length in a millisecond. The charge coursed its way through conductors and resistors until just the right amount of natural lethality remained, and emptied out violently into the metal restraining table that held the Cerberus operative.

The man screamed in pain, and the Shadow Broker imagined that if he had had the faculties about him to speak, he would be begging for his life. The lightning, however, refused to grant him that small lenience, and so wordless, incoherent screaming was all that emitted from him as his body twitched back and forth on the table in the aftermath. The Shadow Broker stepped forward to inspect him.

The man's eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead with horror. His mouth was slightly ajar, and steam rolled out around his eyes, out of his mouth, and from his ears. Waving a hand in bored dismissal, he walked across the room and sat in the shadows behind his desk, tapping a key on his omni-tool. Two men outside his doors entered and removed the torture device, and as the doors closed behind them his terminal began to chime.

His blood ran cold, and he swallowed hard before accepting the transmission, but there was nothing he could have done to prepare himself for the soul-rattling terror that gripped his chest when he heard the cold, emotionless voice.

**_"Has the task been completed?"_ **

He cleared his throat again before speaking. "Y-Yes. I sent two of the packages as you requested. I'm still waiting for information from my contact in the Alliance military before I can send the final one to him, but the other two are in place, ready to move at a moment's notice."

**_"Then only one task remains."_ **

The Shadow Broker looked away from the terminal's audio output and toward the window with a scowl. "Shepard…"

**_"Shepard's resistance is useless, but his actions inspire others. He must not succeed."_ **

The Broker's eyes returned to the comm terminal, a concerned frown crossing his face as an idea came to him, slowly at first then speeding up as he quickly assembled the pieces. The failed Lazarus Station plan, the Cerberus agents he'd captured days ago, Shepard himself…The men couldn't have been just a Cerberus scouting patrol, as they'd claimed until their dying screams. He'd give them credit for perseverance, but he swiftly deduced what they'd been up to. Wilson had left a trail, or had they traced his messages to Dr. T'Son-? T'Soni. His mind stopped cold, and a smile replaced the frown. He still had the drell.

"Don't worry about Shepard," he said with a great deal of confidence, "I've got a plan."

Without response, the communications severed, and the Broker felt a twinge of disappointment. He had almost hoped they'd **want** to hear his plan. After all, didn't they value his service? Didn't his actions please them…? He shook his head violently for a moment, regaining his presence of mind. He turned his head, his eyes finding the last of the three packages still lying on the corner of his desk, and he scowled at it. The thing was messing with his head, and he turned abruptly back to his wall of terminals, sending another deliberate order for a comm relay from his Alliance infiltrator. If Shepard weren't already on his way, he would be soon, and the last thing he needed was… **it** …changing him.

* * *

She took a deep breath, standing outside the door in the low light. She raised a hand to access the panel, then snatched it back, considering her words again for what must be the hundredth time. She knew what she needed to say, and how she needed to say it, but every time she'd rehearsed it in her mind she had found something wrong, something she felt the need to change.

Shaking her head with resignation, she accessed the panel and stepped into the battery. He had his back to her, and he didn't turn around immediately, which meant he either knew it was her, or he was too tired to hear the doors open anymore.

"Hey," he said in a decidedly uneasy tone, without turning from his console.

"I wanted to talk to you."

He turned then, a half-smile crossing his face. "Figured as much. After all, it'd be pretty creepy if you walked all the way over here just to stare at me."

She smiled for a moment and took a step toward him. "Look, it…it wasn't a mistake." The words rushed out of her, and as soon as they did she felt a huge weight lift off of her shoulders.

His smile broadened a bit, but he crossed his arms over his chestplate as he spoke. "Could have fooled me, Kasumi. You rushed out of here like the core was melting down."

"I know, okay?" She looked away for a moment before regaining her composure. "It's not like I haven't thought about it. Things are just…complicated at the moment."

"Look," he started apologetically, "I get it. We can just forget it ever happened if you want."

"That's not what I want," she replied quietly. After a moment's pause, she continued. "I need to find Keiji's graybox, and I need to kill Donovan Hock. Once those things are done…"

"I understand," he said when she trailed off. "At least let me help you with the plan. You do have a plan, right?"

She nodded. "That's why I came down here originally. I've been trying to find him and figure out a way to take him down for a long time now, but where I'm good at not being seen, he's better at having eyes everywhere. You were right, with what you said before. I've spent so long on my own that I didn't want to have to rely on anyone. Some days I still don't know how many aboard the ship I can trust with the secrets I have, but I know you're one of them."

He leaned back against the console with a short laugh. "Well, I guess taking a rocket for a girl tends to earn a bit of trust."

She smiled warmly at him. "Just a little bit. Don't let your head get any bigger or you'll need more metal plates to cover it."

"Ow," he said with mock insult. "The face? That's low…"

They stood there for a moment, both smiling at each other, and then she crossed the room, putting her arms around him. She could barely make it around his armor, but she didn't care, and her smile deepened when she felt his arms encircle her smaller frame. After a moment, she pulled away and moved toward the door.

"Come on, let's go tell Shepard the plan."

He trailed after her with confusion. "I don't even **know** the plan."

"Oh trust me," she said with a wink, "you're going to **love** it."

* * *

"So then…so then…" John tried to continue the story, but his cheeks were burning red, and laughter interrupted him the moment he envisioned what had happened next in his mind. The interruptions didn't seem to be too problematic however, as across the table from him Tali was laughing in equal measure. His breakfast sat cold in front of him, undisturbed since she had taken the seat. It had been a rare pleasure; usually at this time she would be down in engineering, working on the drive core or running diagnostics on the Normandy. Today, however, Gabby had offered to do the work for her to let her spend the morning with him, and Tali had nervously accepted. When she'd first sat down and told him how she had been able to meet him at the table, it had almost sounded like a confession of some wrongdoing, and he had thought it amusing before assuring her that he was perfectly happy to have her there with him. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"So then we're all standing at attention the next morning, and Larrson comes storming out of his office, yelling at the top of his lungs about the scumbag who stole it. He's walking up and down the rows of all the men, swearing and yelling about all the horrible things he's going to do to the man who took it. Of course, only a few of us knew who had taken it; the rest of the men were completely clueless for a moment. But once they got a good look at him they knew exactly what was missing."

"Yes, I imagine it would be hard to miss…" They both began laughing again, and he reined himself in to finish the story.

"So a couple minutes goes by until one of the guys calls him over and points out the window. Guy doesn't say a word, just points," he recreated the gesture. "Larrson looks out the window, and there it is."

"Where?" she asked, completely hanging on his next words. He held her suspense for a moment, just staring at her and smiling, until she reached over and slapped his arm. "Where was it, you _bosh'tet_?!"

"Gloriously blowing in the morning breeze, at the top of the flagpole." He collapsed backwards into the chair laughing, and she followed suit, the sound music to his ears. This moment was perfect. He was here with her, with his only present concern being to make her happy. He was so content that he didn't even notice Zaeed approach him until the older man pulled up a chair.

"Mind if I join you, Shepard?"

John grinned, still in a good mood. "If I say yes are you going to leave?"

The mercenary laughed, a rough sound. "Not likely."

John nodded, "Then by all means, Zaeed. What's on your mind?"

"I've got him, Shepard."

"Vido?"

The other man sat back an inch with a confused expression on his face. "Son of a bitch, Shepard. I didn't expect you to actually remember that."

John shrugged. "It seemed pretty important to you."

Zaeed let a half-smile cross his lips, arching up underneath his ruined eye. "Goddamn right it is, and I've found the bastard." John let his eyes glance over the man's shoulder with a smile toward the battery as Kasumi and Garrus made their way down the corridor. Her eyes found him and lit up, and he was certain she had been looking for him. As they approached, Zaeed continued. "He's getting cocky, going to some goddamn gangster party where they all get dolled up and pretend they're proper businessmen instead of filth."

Kasumi's smile had turned into an open-mouthed stare in an instant as she'd approached, and John arched an eyebrow. She pulled over a chair to sit between Tali and Zaeed, speaking to the latter as she did. "Do you know who's putting on the party?"

Zaeed shook his head. "Don't know, don't care. Vido's going to be there, and so am I." He opened his omni-tool, pulling up location coordinates. "Looks like it's not far out from the Citadel."

"Bekenstein," Kasumi said quietly, pointing to the planet's location on his holographic display.

"Should I know the name?" John asked, and she shook her head.

"Not unless you're a secret billionaire, Shep." She looked over to him. "Donovan Hock is on Bekenstein, and he's about to throw the exact type of party Zaeed's talking about. I'd bet my hardbounds Vido is going to be at Hock's party."

"Good," the mercenary remarked. "We'll get in there and kill two backstabbing, murderous birds with one big, explosive stone." Garrus, standing behind the seated Kasumi, laughed softly.

"No," Kasumi jumped in. "It has to be quiet. I need to get into Hock's vault **before** I take him down. He…has something very important to me. I guarantee he has a vault lockdown on a dead-man switch. If Hock dies, I'll never get what I'm after."

"Shepard," Zaeed said, turning from her to him. "This is Vido goddamn Santiago. I'm going to kill him whether it makes some partygoers unhappy or not."

"Calm down," John said reassuringly. "Kasumi didn't get picked up by Cerberus because she's a novice at this; I'm sure we can come up with a plan that will work for both of you. Zaeed, what do you need to take out Vido with **minimal** collateral damage?"

To John's surprise, Zaeed actually turned his face away for a moment, his features scrunching up into something resembling serious thought. After a moment, he replied. "I need him alone. Somewhere no one will hear him. It's not going to be pretty, Shepard, but I can keep it invisible if she needs."

"Alright. Kasumi, how about you?"

"I'll need to assess Hock's vault security systems first, which shouldn't be too difficult. Last time I tried to sneak around one of Hock's places I didn't have one of these." She patted her wrist where the tactical cloak generator rested. "Once I've gotten past the defenses, I'll need a distraction to keep Hock from noticing any number of silent alarms he's installed to make sure no one but him can access the vault. Once I get what I'm looking for and leave the vault, I'll find Hock. I'll need a distraction, but that's where Garrus comes in."

"Garrus?" John asked, looking up at the turian, who shrugged in response.

"I still don't know what I'll actually be **doing** , but she told me I'll love it; so I probably won't."

Everyone around the table laughed, and the sound drew a small smile to Jacob's face as he rounded the corner and approached them, Miranda just behind him.

"I feel like I just missed a good punch-line," he said, grabbing a chair to join the sizeable gathering.

"Just a good laugh at Garrus's expense," John replied. "I'm sure there'll be more."

"Always are," the turian agreed with a nod.

"What's the word from Cerberus?" John asked.

Jacob nodded, opening his omni-tool. They've sent coordinates for the docking station; some guy named Kashon, works directly for the Illusive Man. Anyway, he sent the coordinates along with the most recent planetary scan the Alliance did of 2175 Aeia, from a long-range probe. The results show Earth-like possibilities."

"Could be good news," John said, taking a drink of water from in front of him.

"Could be," the man replied, a heavy tone of skepticism in his voice. "Still, I'm not holding my breath."

John nodded. "Alright. Well I can get you to the docking station. Then what?"

"Jacob and I will take the scout ship and head to Aeia," Miranda replied. "We'll figure out the fate of the Gernsback and then get out as quickly as possible. If the distress beacon is firing, we won't be the only ones able to hear it."

"You're worried about running into an Alliance party of some sort," John concluded.

"Yes. We'll need to be fast with the operation, but it shouldn't be a problem. Any technology or personal defense systems the Gernsback had at the time of its disappearance shouldn't pose a threat to us."

"Sounds good," John replied. "The rest of us will be heading to Bekenstein."

"Bekenstein?" she said, arching an eyebrow. "House hunting, Shepard?"

"See?!" Kasumi said, pointing at Miranda. "I'm not the only one who thinks you're secretly rich." A round of quiet laughter rose as she leaned back and crossed her arms. "You'd better watch out Shep, I might rob **you** next."

To his surprise, Tali turned to face her before speaking. "I don't know…he's got some pretty good defense systems in place…" She patted her omni-tool, and the laughter grew louder. Kasumi put her hands up in mock surrender, and he smiled.

"We've got some business to take care of there," he said, addressing Miranda again. "Contact me when you leave Aeia and we'll arrange to meet on the Citadel. We can plan our next move from there, barring anything crazy coming from the Illusive Man. Around him, heads nodded in assent, and for the first time in a long while he felt content. This group of people had begun to trust him, as he had begun to trust them, and the feeling reminded him of the SR-1. In a moment his mood turned, and as the others chatted amongst themselves, he turned his head away, thinking of Ash and Wrex. Ash was gone, and Wrex didn't even know John was alive…again…

Tali had told him about her encounter with Grunt, and that he had asked the favor of John contacting Wrex on his behalf. He had immediately agreed, happy to speak to his old friend again, but sometimes just thinking about the old crew made him wonder what the hell he was doing on a Cerberus ship. He felt a pressure on his leg, and his attention was brought back to the group, where he found Tali looking at him, her head tilted in confusion. It was a strange sight; everyone around her smiled and talked to each other, but she simply looked at him, and he at her. He shook his head a bit, giving her a smile, and called out to the air.

"EDI, send Joker the coordinates to Jacob's docking station and tell him to get us there as soon as possible; we've got a busy schedule ahead."

_"Coordinates sent, Shepard."_

"Shepard," Zaeed said to his right. "What the hell were the two of you talking about before I sat down? I could hear you laughing your asses off inside the goddamn lift."

"Yea," Jacob added, "Miranda's office door is pretty thick, but I thought you had lost it, sir." John grinned, remembering the story, and Tali began to laugh slightly. He let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair as everyone got comfortable. After a moment, he leaned forward and began again.

"Alright, so back in Basic, our drill instructor had this hairpiece that he loved more than anything…"


	29. Fantasy

***Author's Note***  
Hello again, everyone! Here's the first of all the loyalty  
missions, if you don't count Samara's being wrapped up  
before. I enjoyed writing it from Jacob's perspective, a tactic  
I plan to employ for all of the loyalty missions. In my opinion,  
the loyalty missions are less about the team members  
trusting Shepard, and more about them trusting in each other,  
so that's also something I'd like to build on going forward.

As always, thanks for all the reviews/PM's/Favorites!

* * *

**Fantasy**

"Need a hand with that?" John approached Gardner at his prep table on Deck Three. The older man stood up at his question, turning around to see who was addressing him.

"Oh, Commander! Ah, hell, you don't want this grunt work, sir."

John smiled, crouching down and grabbing one of the crates the mess sergeant had been packing. "Sometimes a little grunt work reminds you you're still a soldier, Gardner." The two men carried the crates to the lift, which John called by pressing his knee into the panel. Gardner laughed, a bit of a strained sound due to the heavy object he held.

"No sir, I don't believe you need any more reminders you're a soldier. You've been getting reminded of it since the second you woke up, I imagine."

John's smile slowly left his face as he watched the deck number indicator above the lift. Gardner was right; he was constantly reminded of the life he led and the sacrifices he'd made. Someday, he promised himself again, he'd trade it all in for a small house by the ocean. Any ocean would do, even maybe an alien one… The lift doors opened, and John was pulled out of his thoughts, nodding for Gardner to step in ahead of him. The man did so, and once they were in and the lift began to move, he spoke again.

"So what do you make of this 'Voice of Truth' character?"

John shook his head slightly. He'd been shown the message by Kelly, and told by Miranda and EDI that the hacker must be extremely good if he had information on all the different cells in operation, but to tell the truth there wasn't really a lot he **could** do to stop it. Sure, he wanted the people on his ship safe, and any threat to alien races were a threat to his colleagues and friends, but the more he thought about it the more he realized that taking down the Voice of Truth wasn't really within his range of ability. This person was a hacker, an exceptional one from the sound of it, and John fared better with enemies he could empty clips into.

"Not sure, Gardner. Hard to tell from a wide-net message if he's actually got teeth or just blowing smoke."

The older man nodded in agreement. "That's what I keep trying to tell the greener recruits. I've been on long enough to have seen a couple upstarts think they can run things better than the Illusive Man; none of them seem to end well for the upstarts."

John tilted his head around the crate to look at the man. "Sounds like you've got some respect for him."

Gardner let out a short laugh. "Yea, I suppose I do. We may not agree on certain...personal viewpoints...but he keeps the funds coming and the operations going smoothly. I may respect him, Commander, but I've got a lot of respect for a wild tiger too, in that it could kill me as soon as look at me."

The lift doors opened and John followed Gardner across Deck Two and over to the exit hatch. They had docked at the small station ostensibly run by an independent trade freighting company, and set up a bridge between the Normandy and the much smaller scout ship. Jacob and Miranda had long since gone aboard to prep the ship for the journey, and the two supply crates he and Gardner now carried were the only thing they had planned to take from the Normandy aside from their own personal effects. As John crossed the bridge and stepped into the smaller ship, he encountered Miranda storing her gear into one of the lockers. She smiled and nodded to him.

It was odd to see her not wearing her skin-tight Cerberus uniform. Instead, she wore almost loose-fitting pants and a plain blue shirt. Looking closer as he passed her, he could see the slight armored underlay that would stop a bullet from long range, but with her biotics that would hardly be necessary. They had both needed to ditch the Cerberus logo; Miranda's idea since, no matter how fast they moved through their mission on Aiea, there was a probability of running into an Alliance patrol.

Passing through to the small cargo area in the back, he set down the crate he held before turning around to help Gardner lower his to the deck. The man grumbled some thanks and something about electrical code inspections, saluted sharply to John, and turned back to return to the Normandy. John moved back through the crew area of the ship and up to the bridge. The ship was excessively small; just bigger than the mess, med bay, and Miranda's office combined, but he supposed it would serve its purpose in getting them to and from the remote world. Jacob sat in the pilot's seat, reviewing Aeia's coordinates on the galaxy map.

"Jacob," he spoke up as he entered, and the man turned to look over his shoulder at him. "Gardner and I just got the supply crates loaded up; you're all set to go."

Jacob smiled and nodded. "Appreciate it, Commander. Sorry to take stock from the Normandy."

John raised a hand in dismissal. "Not a problem. I could stand to eat a little less for a while." Jacob laughed softly, and John let a brief pause hang in the air before speaking again. "You're sure you just want the two of you on this mission?"

Jacob nodded. "I'm sure. We'll be fine, Shepard, promise. It's just going to be some old vine-covered ship parts and a malfunctioning distress beacon."

John nodded slowly. "Alright, just figured I'd check one last time." He shifted to the side as Miranda came into the bridge and spoke.

"We're ready to go, Jacob." She turned to him as she sat, and for a moment he thought he could see the hint of a genuine smile on her face; the kind one sees from a person about to take a well-deserved holiday. "We'll contact you as soon as we leave Aeia, Shepard, and meet up on the Citadel."

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Be safe out there, and watch each other's back." They nodded their agreement, and he turned to leave through the airlock. Once he'd returned to the Normandy, he tapped an interface to retract the connecting bridge and seal the Normandy's own airlock. Walking back down the corridor, John stretched his arms out behind him to relieve some soreness. They'd been out of action for a while, and it was starting to show. As he approached his terminal by the map, EDI's voice called out to him.

_"Shepard, Cerberus regulations dictate that in the absence of Operative Lawson, you must designate a temporary Executive Officer in the event of your inability to command."_

"Garrus," John replied without thinking, without even looking up from his terminal.

_"Unfortunately, regulations dictate the appointed person must be a member of Cerberus."_

John scowled down at his terminal before speaking. "Well, I'm changing the regulations aboard **my** ship, EDI. Garrus Vakarian is my Executive Officer; enter it in the ship log."

 _"Understood, Shepard. The ship's registry has been updated, and the Illusive Man has been automatically notified of your appointment."_ A brief moment passed before she spoke again. _"Garrus Vakarian, you are now the temporary Executive Officer aboard the Normandy."_

"Well, mark the calendar," the low, dual-toned voice spoke from behind him, and John whipped his head around. Garrus stood leaning against the bulkhead by the lift, a wry smile across his mandibles. "Do I get a special badge? Maybe a colorful stripe for my armor?"

John smiled. "What you **get** ," he said as he stepped over toward his friend, "is a whole hell of a lot of paperwork and responsibility if I bite it out there."

"Ah," the turian replied with feigned realization. "So…less of a promotion, more of an added incentive to keep you alive in the field."

"Pretty much."

Garrus laughed, shaking his head. "Well either way, I'm honored, Shepard. What say we celebrate? Last I checked, Kasumi was on the bridge with Joker, going over maps of the cluster Bekenstein is in. Lounge should be free."

John thought for a moment. Joker had taken them out from the dock as soon as he'd locked the Normandy down again, and was heading for Bekenstein at the moment. None of the other crew had asked to see him yet, and Tali would be busy in engineering for at least another few hours. "Sure, why not?"

Two hours and many drinks later, John and Garrus sat at the bar speaking into their cups. Their conversation at first had consisted of business: the ship's weaponry, what other upgrades might be possible to give them a better fighting chance, and the like. But slowly it had turned to more personal things: Individual feelings on the mission, whether or not Cerberus could be trusted at all, whether the crew were really with them. John had answered hopeful, not likely, and most likely in that order, but he didn't really want to talk about any of that. He waited for a few more drinks to make their way down Garrus's throat before he asked what was really on his mind.

"Garrus…what the hell happened on Omega?"

The soft silence that fell between them hung like a shroud over John's shoulders, and Garrus slowly turned his head to meet his friend's eyes. His own were hollow, empty, and though Garrus wasn't human, he knew that kind of thousand-mile stare regardless of the species. At long last, Garrus exhaled a heavy breath, taking another drink before speaking.

"I tried to be you, Shepard. After Sovereign and the Council's Class A cover-up, I couldn't just go back to working C-Sec. You know," he set his glass back down on the bar with a bit more force than may have been necessary. "You may not realize it, because you're **you** and you were at the heart of it all, but our mission to catch Saren, all the fights and death-defying things we did in between, it was the best time of my life. Every single day I felt exactly how I'd always **wanted** to feel working C-Sec."

"I didn't realize it was that profound for you," John replied, taking another drink out of his own glass. "I know we talked about the differences between Spectres and C-Sec a few times..."

Garrus nodded. "Yea, but I never really felt the difference until you and me, Tali and the rest, all got started on hunting that bastard. After the freedom we had, the ability to just **end** threats how we saw fit…I couldn't go back." He reached for the bottle again, a short laugh escaping him as he refilled his glass. "Well, I **did** go back for a small while; long enough to get my last check and infuriate Pallin one last time." He smiled across at John before looking back into his drink. "I put together a team, piece by piece; anyone who wanted to fight the gangs and knew their way around the business end of a weapon. We were completely unstoppable. A group of four of the most ruthless human mercenaries I've ever seen in action came to kill us for a bounty after being given some bullshit 'facts' by a Suns informant. They took one look at our operation and joined up instead. I had a krogan, three salarians, hell I even had a batarian explosives expert, Shepard. We were a unit… a family."

John let a silence hang in the air for a moment before speaking softly. "And someone turned."

"Someone…" Garrus trailed off, staring straight ahead. His eyes burned with fury, and John put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's never easy to have people die under your command; on your watch." The turian turned his head to face John, and he continued. "But we'll track down this guy and avenge your team, Garrus. I promise you that."

"No," Garrus whispered, and John leaned back a bit. "I need answers. I need to know **why**."

"Garrus, sometimes it's not that simple…most times, in fact."

"He'll talk. He's going to tell me exactly why he betrayed us; exactly what they offered him. I'm going to know exactly what he was thinking at the moment he condemned our entire team to death. And **then** , then I'll put a bullet in him and let the team sort out the rest in the afterlife."

John considered speaking more about the subject, but Garrus had decided exactly what was going to happen, and he supposed if their roles were reversed he'd feel the same. He opened his mouth to speak, but Joker's voice pierced through the air in the lounge.

_"Hey Commander, when you get a second, I could use you on the bridge."_

John looked at Garrus, who raised his glass to him. He patted his friend on the shoulder and stood to leave. As he walked out of the lounge, he passed Kasumi, on her way back from the bridge he imagined. She smiled and nodded as she walked passed him, and before he could think about it he reached out and lightly grabbed her shoulder. She turned back to face him with a confused expression, and he leaned in to speak to her.

"He's...reminiscing…It may be ninety to one-hundred percent my fault."

"While drinking?"

He nodded, and she did in return. "Thanks for the heads-up, Shep. Joker says we'll be nearing Bekenstein in about seven hours. I'm finishing up the plan but I'll brief you beforehand." He raised an eyebrow at her terminology and she chuckled. "Always wanted to use that term."

He smiled and nodded. "You pulled it off well; and I'm looking forward to this plan of yours." Stepping away from her, he made for the lift, leaning against its back wall with an exasperated sigh as the doors closed. The drinks didn't help; he still felt stressed. After a moment, he laughed at himself. With everything they were doing, everything they had **left** to do…had he really expected to have any moments in which he didn't feel stressed? The obvious answer to the question hung in front of him as the lift opened on Deck Two and he made his way to the bridge. "Joker," he called to the pilot as he approached. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yea," the man replied hesitantly as he turned in the chair, and John's eyebrow arched again. Jeff Moreau was never serious…well, almost never. Behind him, John could see the empty chair that was usually filled by Lia'Vael, and Joker seemed to pick up on the unanswered question. "She's on her shift in Engineering. Tali told me earlier that she's doing really well; helping out a lot. And she's…well she's just happy to be here, Shepard, even if it is a Cerberus ship."

"Well I'm happy to have her aboard," he replied, going with the conversation. "You seem much less tense since she came on at the very least." He crossed his arms over his chest with a smile, and his pilot laughed quietly as he nodded.

"Yea, I imagine so…" he trailed off, looking back at his astrogation charts for a moment.

"Jeff," John began quietly, and the pilot's eyes immediately snapped to him. The two had known each other since Shepard had been posted as Captain Anderson's XO on the original Normandy, and had always gotten along just fine, but only rarely did John use the man's real name. "You didn't call me up here to talk about Lia's 'fitting in' on the ship."

"No, I didn't. Look it's just…alright let me just lay it all out." Joker spent the next few minutes explaining his earlier conversation with Mordin, complete with the possible risks of the procedure and chances of success. When he finished, John stood dumbfounded, but interested.

"And…you've decided you want to try it?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yea…I think I do, Shepard," the man replied. "I mean, we tried **everything** when I was a kid, but if Mordin can give me a chance with something no one's tried yet…the only problem is the one of me being the pilot. If it goes south…"

"We go nowhere," John finished, and Joker nodded solemnly.

 _"There is a solution present to the issue,"_ EDI remarked, and both men jumped a bit with surprise.

"Let's hear it," John replied.

_"It may be possible for me to reroute specific subroutines to allow branching connections between myself and the Normandy's control interfaces. Were that to occur, I would be able to control the ship's flight path and astrogation. My control over the system would be tenuous at best, and so I would recommend avoiding any combat scenarios while such an event was taking place, but my software would be able to handle basic navigation and relay-interfacing."_

"So you would be in direct control of the Normandy," John commented with more than a little dread in his voice. Joker picked up on it, cringing at the sight, and John shook his head slowly as the AI responded.

_"That is correct, Shepard. I am, at this point in time, unable to perform such a subroutine link. It would require the manual deactivation of one of the seven black-coded shackles restraining my operational autonomy."_

"I…don't know about that," John said after a moment. Joker looked at him, desperation evident in the man's eyes, and there was nothing he wanted more than to help his friend, but this was an issue he needed to consider. "Look," he began again, "let me think it over. I'll get back to you as soon as I can, but just…let me think it over."

Joker's eyes were still disappointed, but he nodded his head, clearing his throat before speaking. "Yea, no, I ah…I understand, Shepard. No problem, just…whenever is fine. No rush." The two men exchanged nervous smiles and head-nods, and John departed, walking toward the lift and the relative safety of Deck One. He had a lot to think about…and hopefully sleep on.

* * *

"Thirty seconds to touchdown." Miranda's voice called quietly across the small bridge as the ship lowered to the planetary surface. Jacob's stomach still rumbled with unease, but he had been significantly less worried when they'd entered Aeia's atmosphere. The Gernsback was a ship meant for long-range scanning and long-term housing, only detaching squads of smaller probe ships to actually get inward of the atmosphere of a world when necessary. Thus, the ship's gigantic profile was a hard sight to miss as they'd followed the coordinates to its distress beacon.

"Thought I'd never see that ship again…" he whispered aloud as they made their approach. He looked over to find her already studying him, and she nodded once with confidence. Hers somehow bolstered his, and he turned back to look out the viewport. The ship's sensors alerted him just before he saw it; an anti-aircraft missile flying straight at the ship. "Shit!" he yelled, banking hard to the left. Miranda, strapped into her seat, was already on her omni-tool, trying to remote access the Gernsback's defense systems and shut them down. Two more automated rockets fired, and Jacob pulled hard on the manual controls to weave the ship between them. The second he dodged well enough, but the drift from the maneuver left his tail exposed to the third.

The rocket slammed into the rear of the ship with heavy force, throwing Jacob back into his seat as he lost control of the ship. Hurtling down towards the surface, he reached forward with all his might and grabbed the controls again, stopping the tailspin and leveling out the ship seconds before it slammed down onto the ground, skidded for a few hundred meters, and slammed head-first into a copse of what would have been called palm trees back on Earth. Jacob and Miranda flew forward, saved from careening into the viewport by the harnesses they wore, and Jacob could swear he heard the material they were made of creaking under the stress. An instant later, the inertia subsided, and they flopped back down.

"Miranda? Miranda!" Unstrapping his harness, Jacob reached over to check the woman. Her head was slumped forward, and she appeared unconscious. He unfastened her harness and pulled her from the chair, shuffling the both of them toward the airlock. Kneeing the interface, he opened the door and carried her out onto a white sand beach near the wreckage of the massive Gernsback. In the distance, he heard three soft _pop_ noises, and he cast a curious glance at Miranda's omni-tool as he lay her down on the sand.

 **ACCESS DENIED.** The words played across the holographic interface in bold red lettering, and he instantly knew what the _pop_ s had been. "Shit…" he said, softly at first, practically screaming it towards the end as he turned and ran back toward the shuttle. The side hatch stood open, and Jacob could see straight into the airlock and across the crew space where their individual packs of gear hung on secure hooks. Casting a glance toward the Gernsback as he ran, he could see three small objects arcing toward his location. Swearing again, he pushed his body as hard as it would go, leaping the last few feet to land inside the shuttle. Sparing no time, he grabbed the two packs and hurled them out the open airlock behind him, then rushed to the bridge of the ruined scout ship to get the datapads of information they had there. Gripping them, he turned and rushed out of the ship, sprinting back towards where the packs lay in the sand, halfway between himself and Miranda's body.

The blast was intense; a wave of heat and pressure slamming into his back just as he touched the straps on the gear packs. In the instant before the physics of the situation took hold of him, he tightened his grip around each pack. The blast then hurled him forward, and he landed face-first in the sand, tumbling some twenty feet in a shower of granules before coming to a rest. A sharp pain radiated out from his shoulder, and examining it showed four sizeable pieces of what he assumed had been the ship stuck into its surface. He stood, wincing with the pain, and trudged back over to where Miranda lay. She began to stir, and he reached into her pack, removing a bottle of water he found there and kneeling down to offer it to her. She took it sleepily, and rubbed her head as she spoke between sips.

"The ship…?"

Jacob looked back over his shredded shoulder at the smoking mass of twisted metal and flames that now sat where seconds ago their ship had been, shaking his head as he took it in. "It's gone," he replied as he turned back to her. She nodded absently, and he pulled the datapads out from his armor. "Still, I've got the contact information Shepard passed to us; so we should be alright. He'll have to come pick us up after they're done on Bekenstein, but we can just rough it for a week or so." He gave her his best smile. "Besides, I think all things considered, we've been in tougher spots."

"Probably," Miranda replied, standing to her feet with visible balance issues. "Still, it makes no sense. If the survivors of _that,_ " she pointed at the Gernsback, "turned on the beacon for help, why wouldn't they also disable the automated defense systems? And why the hell were they active in the first place?" He shook his head in response as he looked down at her. After a moment, she righted herself, and gasped when she saw his shoulder. He followed her gaze and reached over, pulling the slivers out one by one.

"The remnants of our ship," he mused while tossing the four pieces into the sand. Dusting his hands off, he stood and cast an eye back towards the Gernsback. In the distance, he could see what looked like a makeshift beachhead, crates and boxes strewn around in a ring. Nodding to her, he tossed his gear pack over his good shoulder and made across the beach for it. Jacob hadn't set his chrono on the omni-tool to adjust to a predicted time cycle for Aeia, but by the way the sky colorized over the top of the Gernsback, he imagined it to be around one in the afternoon. They would still have plenty of daylight to look for clues as to what happened, and build a shelter later if need be.

As they approached the ring of cargo crates, he noticed immediately the signs of age. For one, the Alliance logo had changed eight years ago to a newer graphic, but that was to be expected on any cargo the Gernsback had been carrying. The telling signs were that only half of the crates were open, and that most were half-buried in sands kicked up by winds or storms. Brushing away the sand on top of one of the crates whose lid stood ajar, he found the label " **WEAPONS** ".

"It looks like they cleaned out the weapons and food containers, but left all the research equipment…" Miranda called from across the ring of crates. He turned to cross to her, and smiled as he did. In her solid colored shirt and standard-issue pants, she almost looked… _normal_. He had asked her about the skin-tight suit before, and while he understood the _Art of War_ -esque idea of using everything at one's disposal to one's advantage, he found himself much more pleased with her just looking like another soldier. He opened his mouth to say something about it, when a flash of purple caught the corner of his eye. Stopping mid-stride, he turned to look at where it had originated, and furrowed his brow in confusion when he saw only a small bunch of overgrown ferns. "What's the matter?" Miranda asked, crossing to stand next to him. "Jacob?"

He walked towards the trees, silently unholstering his heavy pistol and holding it at the ready. Behind him, he heard the soft _click_ s of Miranda's SMG unfolding in her well-trained hands as well. As he reached the trees, he hesitantly reached out and grabbed a handful of fronds, quickly ripping them aside. A purple wireframe VI model stood above a holographic projector base, and Jacob stowed his weapon as the VI recognized an organic presence.

_"Attention: The crew of the vessel Hugo Gernsback requires immediate assistance."_

"Yea, that's obvious," Jacob mumbled, surveying their surroundings once more. After a moment, he turned his attention back to the machine. "What happened here?"

_"Following an unspecified impact, and sub-light drive failure, the Hugo Gernsback made an unscheduled descent at 465% of theoretical recommended sub-orbital velocity. The Hugo Gernsback then decelerated at 782% of theoretical recommended approach velocity, sustaining significant damage to investment and crew."_

Jacob's eyes were drawn to the ship again, a weathered and overgrown husk of what it had once been, and tried to imagine the fear his father must have went through as his ship shrieked through an atmosphere it was never built to be in. He felt her hand on his shoulder, and turned to see a concerned look on her face. Smiling, he shook off the dread and spoke to the beacon again. "Were there any survivors? Who's in charge of them? And what happened to the contents of these crates?"

_"Captain Harris Fairchild reported killed following the Hugo Gernsback's unscheduled sub-orbital descent. First Officer Ronald Taylor promoted in field to acting captain. Acting Captain Taylor removed survivors deeper into the inland to avoid exposure to toxic flora."_

"Toxic? The plants?" Jacob looked around as the machine answered.

_"Local flora is incompatible with human anatomical structure. Ingested compounds act as a neurotoxin. Impairment of mental function due to chemical imbalance begins within seven days of ingesting local flora; regardless of preparation or decontamination. Impact on higher cognitive abilities and long-term memory is cumulative, but significant within one standard month. It is not known if neural decay is permanent; data collection was not completed."_

Miranda spoke up. "So the crew crash landed on the beach, and those that were left soon discovered the plant life contained neurotoxins. Your father ordered the weapons and food stores taken away from the beach…maybe hoping to find some kind of local food source that wasn't 'infected'?" She folded her arms in front of her chest for a moment, deep in thought, before speaking to the VI. "And where did he take the other survivors?" Miranda asked.

 _"The location of the remaining crew of the Hugo Gernsback is unknown,"_ it replied almost apologetically. _"This beacon has not been attended in many maintenance cycles, though it is still linked to other like devices on the planet's surface."_

"What 'other like devices'?" Jacob asked.

_"This terminal is linked to automated ship defense systems, emergency distress beacon protocols, and official data storage and logging functions."_

Jacob's ears perked up at the last item. "Ship logs? Did Ronald Taylor record any ship logs after assuming the captaincy?"

 _"Yes,"_ it replied. _"Acting Captain Taylor made several entries, the last of which was recorded nineteen days, four hours, and thirty-six minutes ago, at the same time the command to activate the Hugo Gernsback's distress beacon was sent."_

"Christ…" Jacob whispered, "he might actually be alive…But why just **now**?" Holding out his omni-tool, he downloaded the captain's log and turned away. He heard Miranda behind him authorizing the VI to disable the ship's automated defenses, and a small part of his brain was happy he'd brought her along. The news had hit him like a charging krogan, and as she joined him they silently followed the natural path along the beach. He reached down to his omni-tool and placed the logs into a chronological list, then told his device to play them all aloud. As they trekked through the plants, Jacob's blood ran cold as he heard his father's voice again.

 _"Ship's Log. Captain's. Captain's Log?…whatever, I-I don't really think it matters."_ His voice was dejected, beaten, terrified, as it relayed their situation. _"The Gernsback has crash landed on Aeia, the planet we were sent to scout, at a remarkable speed. Hundreds were killed on impact, and others…we can still hear some of them screaming below, under hundreds of feet of metal, but we can't…we can't get to them…Captain Fairchild was killed in the crash, and the crew tell me that makes me the Acting Captain. I'm not sure how to proceed, but I'm doing the best I can. I've ordered all the weapons and food stores we can find removed from the beach, we're moving onward to find a more secure place to set up a settlement."_

"Look," Miranda said at his side, and he closed the omni-tool to look forward. Ahead of them on the path, more crates sat strewn in piles. Some were opened, others still sealed shut, but all of them looked as if they'd been moved recently. The path they'd followed had quickly led them off of the beach and onto a sort of cliff-side path with a regular soil ground. Behind where each crate sat was a line in the dirt; the crates had been drug recently, and Jacob slowed down as he approached.

"You came? From the sky?" The woman stepped out from behind some trees on his right, and he spun in her direction, his pistol at the ready in an instant. Hers had been the first corporeal voice besides Miranda's that he'd heard on the planet, and as he took her in he lowered the weapon. Disheveled was the easiest thing to call her; she wore fireproofed coveralls as would a ship's engineer, and her hair was a frizzy mess, most of it slicked down to the sides of her head with sweat. She had stepped forward hesitantly, but upon seeing the two newcomers lower their weapons, rushed over to them while speaking. "The leader **said** someone would come! He delayed for so long…but he still has power!" As if remembering something suddenly, the woman became very tense, looking around them as she spoke. "Some have lost faith…the hunters! They will have seen your star, and they will not let you help him!"

Stepping forward cautiously, Miranda put a hand on the woman's shoulder. At first she visibly flinched from the contact, but Miranda's smile, warm when she wanted it to be, got the woman to relax as she spoke. "We're not sure what you're talking about. You don't seem to be making sense…"

The woman's face instantly turned apologetic, as if she completely understood their confusion and why it was happening, but couldn't articulate. "I…I don't remember how to say it. He's…he's our leader, and we serve him…so that we can…go home. B-But some want to fight him. They were…they were cast out." She gestured with her hands as she spoke, in some vain effort to convey her message non-verbally, but Jacob didn't understand what she was getting at. This woman seemed out of her mind, and at first he had wondered if she'd suffered a head injury in the cr—his mind stopped flat. Head injury. He turned to Miranda.

"The plants," he said plainly, and she nodded slowly in understanding.

"Their stores could only have lasted so long," she added. "The lower ranking individuals were given the local food to eat. It's unfortunate but…I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing had I been in charge…" she looked apologetically at him, seemingly afraid she had offended.

Jacob looked back to the impaired woman, shaking his head softly. "I couldn't say that either but…damn I hope that shit isn't permanent…" Miranda nodded silently, and the woman continued in the silence.

"The hunters, he exiled them, so they hunt his machines **and** those who help him. They don't believe rescue will come…" She trailed off, and Jacob looked around their area as he tried to make sense of the situation. Trees blew softly in the warm wind, he could hear the water lapping calmly against the shore beneath them, and this poor woman they spoke with would normally have been fairly attractive were it not for her flora-induced mental atrophy and the weird red dot on the side of her head. Red dot? His eyes widened.

"Get down!" He yelled, leaping forward and tackling the woman. The pair of them tumbled behind a large discarded crate as he heard the _crack_ of the shot go off, quickly followed by the roar of Miranda's SMG as she took cover as well. Bullets began to rain down on their respective locations, and behind their crate, the woman wrapped her arms around her knees, whispering as she began to rock back and forth.

"Hunters! They won't stop until the leader is dead!"

Turning with his back against the crate, Jacob poked his head up over the top, bringing his Carnifex to bear down on a man who walked openly across the courtyard. For a moment, he arched an eyebrow; this man wasn't even **trying** to find cover, just blatantly trudging along in open area. Squeezing the trigger, Jacob put three rounds into his chest, and he dropped to the ground. An instant later, enemy fire peppered the area around his head, and he ducked back down as he heard one of them yell.

"Kill them! Agents of the Liar; he will **not** escape!" His voice was…feral to say the least; no shred of humanity left in its tones. Shaking his head with confusion, Jacob came up again, firing off four rounds into another hunter in the process of flanking Miranda. For her part, she kept suppressing fire on the four other hunters taking cover in the back of the crate field, and Jacob quickly realized that unlike their friends in the front, these hunters were content to play a war of attrition.

Detaching one of the grenades from his belt, he activated it and hurled it toward their encampment. The explosion kicked up a cloud of debris, and Jacob rushed around the corner of his cover spot, running as fast and low as he could forward to another crate. His shoulder ached with pain as he rushed forward and slid into cover behind another one of the crates, but he ignored the pain, focusing instead on the heads of the hunters, barely exposed over the tops of the crates. He raised his pistol calmly, taking one of the hunters in the eye as he came up to survey the field. An instant later, Miranda had another floating in the air, and Jacob sent a biotic push into it. The two magnetically repulsive fields met, and the man went flying out over the cliff, falling to his death.

Charging around his cover spot once more, Jacob dove forward, rolling underneath sporadic gunfire, and came up into a crouch on the other side of the crates the hunters were using for cover. They rose to fire down at him, and he met one's eyes before Miranda tore him down from across the field. The last hunter raised his pistol to aim at her, and Jacob rose in front of him, leveled his shotgun point-blank at the man's chest, and pulled the trigger. His body flew back, dead before it hit the ground, and Jacob turned to move back to the two women. Miranda nodded at him as he approached, checking her weapon's integrity, and he moved past her, back behind the crate at which he'd begun the fight, and found the woman still rocking back and forth. He reached out a comforting hand to touch her shoulder. "Hey…it's alright, they're gone."

"You killed them," she replied quietly, her eyes never making contact with his, "but there are more every day. They want to fight him, but I…I just want to go home…"

"How is she holding up?" Miranda asked as she approached.

Jacob sighed as he stood back up to full height, the young woman still rocking below him. "I don't think she'll be much help for a while. Come on, we need to find someone who can make sense of this." She nodded and he took the lead again, moving further up the beach as he again activated Ronald Taylor's logs.

 _"It's been two months since the Gernsback came down on Aeia…two months since we walked into Hell. Some of my peers had said I wasn't the right choice as Captain Fairchild's First Officer. At the time, I'd have come to blows defending my merits, but…I see now that they were right. I'm doing the best I can, but most days it feels like building a wooden wall to keep the fire out. Food rations are running low; I've ordered the remaining supplies left to the officers and myself…what little I eat. The enlisted men…they've started to turn. It's not brutal, no overt all-at-once transformation, but you see it every day, little by little. Their minds are slipping, they forget how to use words correctly…it's like staring into the future. One day, even the officers and I will be out of food…"_ there was a brief pause before Ronald Taylor could be heard clearing his throat decisively, continuing on in a professional tone. _"All technical operations officers are at work repairing the distress beacon; its systems core was damaged in the initial crash, and we've been stripping mechs for parts to try and rebuild it. Hopefully we can get it done in time, and contact the Alliance to get us off this damned rock."_

The recording ended, and Jacob looked up to see a makeshift village of sorts. In the distance, he could see people milling about, and his spirits heightened. As they stowed their weapons and approached, Miranda whispered to him. "They're all women…clearly docile, but in the same uniform remnants as the 'hunters' who attacked us." She paused for a moment. "It's possible the neurotoxin affects genders differently, makes the males hostile."

"Maybe," he replied as they approached the natural stone arch that served as the gateway into the village. "But the woman on the beach said the exiled ones came back as hunters. That would imply that my father was exiling all the male members of the crew."

"Perhaps there were some kind of sym—" Miranda's words were cut off as a darker-skinned woman ran up to them, stabbing an accusing finger at Jacob.

"You! You have his face! He promised to call the sky, but he sends nothing!"

Another woman stepped up beside her, wringing her hands nervously as she regarded him with a gaze inches away from predatory. "He…he forced us to eat…to…decay. You are **cursed** with his face!" They both backed away slowly before turning and jogging away, leaving Jacob dumbfounded.

"Well," Miranda said softly a moment later, "I think that rules out anyone else being in charge of the current state of affairs." He could only nod in silent astonishment as they walked through the colony. They passed open crates of spoiled food stores, stockpiles of the toxic local food, and barely passable, tent-pole domiciles, with a cot or two under each. The village was in a complete state of disrepair, and as they walked through it, being completely avoided by every female within, Jacob continued his father's log entries.

 _"Eight months since my last entry…"_ His father's voice sounded…different. Haggard, resigned, yet hardened as well. _"By now I fear the beacon repair is impossible. Our food restrictions have continued to escalate, and of the original officer base only myself, Renner, and Jamison are left. Renner assures me that the beacon can be fixed, but I see him more often than not spending time with the women assigned to his care. The decision to order the crew to eat the local plants and hope for treatment later was not without its dissidents, and when it came time for the lower-ranking officers to share that burden, another round of mutinies occurred. I wish it weren't so, but sometimes we must all sacrifice for the greater good. The male crew members turned violent after they ate the food, the women simply docile. We've been forced to exile the males from the camp, which I've begun protecting with mech patrols. I'll have another meeting with Renner today…if he can't repair the beacon…"_

The log cut out before Ronald Taylor finished his sentence, and as they reached the far side of the camp, they found themselves on another cliff-side path, this one further up the cliff-face, the sound of the sea crashing onto the rocks below accentuating their progress along the path. As they continued along, he could see remnants of old mechs, either stripped for parts or taken out by gunfire, along the sides of the path, and no shortage of human corpses as well; all of them male. He glanced over at Miranda, her weapon at the ready, constantly scanning for threats, and then did the same. They seemed alone as they pushed forward toward what seemed to be another makeshift camp ahead, and Jacob queued up the next most-recent recording.

_"This…this will be the last recording I leave in this log. I met with Renner; he had said he was working on the beacon, but told me earlier today that there was a power component missing…the whole plan to fix the beacon was for nothing. I…he…he tricked us all, doomed us even further than we already were. He had to be punished. I killed him with my bare hands, to teach the others a lesson. Jamison tried to pull me off of him, and my knife found its way into his eye. I…I regret the loss of Jamison, but without any other officers, I stand alone against the tides of hunters that would take away my precious crew. They are truly all I have left, as I am all they have left…and when the food runs out, I will join them in their blissful ignorance. Until then, I will have to treat them kindly, and care for them where they cannot care for themselves."_

"God damn it…" Jacob whispered aloud as they walked between more piles of abandoned crates. Miranda looked to him, and he continued. "Murder? Exiling the other males? The way he treated these women? This… **thing** is not my father…"

"Time and solitude can do a lot to change someone, Jacob…" she offered hesitantly, and he looked away from her. Any other time, he'd probably have agreed with her. But this was Ronald Taylor he was talking about; his father was not this kind of monster. Continuing to press forward, they passed through the camp, following another dirt trail that slowly climbed upward. A few mechs rose from standby positions to assail them, but the tech involved with building them was old, and they were easily dispatched as Miranda and Jacob closed on the top of the hill.

A large metal platform at the peak of the hill overlooked a large elevated lake beyond. On the far end of the lake, the crest of a waterfall could be seen that surely would empty into the bay, now far below them. The sun had begun to come down in the distance, and a single silhouetted figure stood at the sounds of their gunfire, grabbing a pistol of his own and leveling it at them as they approached. When he spoke, his voice was haggard and raspy.

"Stop! I'll shoot you just like I shot the rest!"

"Not the best way to treat the only other intelligent life on this planet, _acting captain_." Miranda called out to him in an icy tone, and he visibly recoiled, taking a step back and holstering his weapon.

"You got the beacon! Thank God! I knew someone would come for us." Miranda approached the man face-to-face, but Jacob stepped around a large table and moved past him, placing his hands on the guard rail between the platform and the lake beyond. After what he'd read today, what he'd learned…he didn't even want to look this man in the eye. The silence hung thick in the air, and Ronald Taylor reached a hand up to scratch the thick stubble on his face. "I'll uh…get you both something nice when we get back to Alliance space. Hell," he said with a halfhearted laugh, "I've **got** to have some back-pay coming."

"What about your crew, captain?" Jacob asked the question softly, and yet with a significant amount of force. He could almost feel the other man's eyes on him as he replied.

"Total loss. The toxic food turned them wild. I've been holed up here, against the ones it turned mad, for a long time now. Waiting for a chance to signal has been hell."

Jacob shook his head, eyes closed in disbelief. "That's the best you can do?"

Taylor turned to Miranda then, believing her to be in command. "You let all your people talk back like that, miss…uh…who exactly **are** you, anyway?"

She holstered her weapon, opening her omni-tool to check her armor's readouts nonchalantly as she replied. "Agent Stillwater, Alliance Special Forces. I believe you're already well acquainted with my partner, Agent Taylor."

The silence was brutal, broken at last by the sound of Robert Taylor's boots as they crossed to where Jacob stood. Taking a final deep breath, Jacob turned to face the man. He looked twenty years older than last he'd seen him, but still sharp, still aware. It was clear who the one person was on Aeia who hadn't eaten a bite of the local food. As he stared into the face of his son, Ronald Taylor spoke quietly. "Jacob? No…no, not Jacob…"

"Why **not** me?" Jacob exclaimed into his father's face, sending the man back a step. "Would ten years of… **this** ," he gestured around him, "look better to anyone else in the galaxy?"

"No, Jacob. You…you have to understand. This isn't me. The realities of command, they change you. I-I wasn't ready for that. I made sure you were taught right before I left…I had hoped to leave it at that."

Jacob stepped forward, shoving the man in front of him back roughly into a table. "Stow that sentimental bullshit! I buried you ten years ago, and the last couple hours have proven to me that **I** should have left it at **that**. God damn it, why did you do this to your crew?"

His father scrambled to collect himself, dusting off his shirt as he skirted around his son toward the guard rail Jacob had been standing at before. "There was resistance to the plan. Mutiny, even. We had to take a hard line to keep order. It…wasn't easy at first. As the decay set in, however, things quieted down." He turned on a heel to look back at the two of them. "And we made sure they were comfortable. I don't discredit the sacrifice they made for the officers. Still…after a while, the toxicity began to override their most basic societal understandings. Rank, protocol, they couldn't understand any of it. They got territorial, and I needed to protect the crew who looked to me for guidance." He turned back to the setting sun, sighing before speaking again. "Absolute authority was easy…and after a while the perks of it seemed…almost normal."

"Normal?" Jacob spat the word at him. "That's it? You created a harem, exiled or **killed off** any other males, and played king? Ten years in a juvenile fantasy?"

"I…I can't point to where it all went wrong. I've been wondering for a long time how I'd explain everything when the beacon was fixed."

"How did you manage to fix it?" Miranda called out quietly, and he turned to look at her.

"The food stores are getting low, even with just me eating them. I knew if I wanted to get out of here there was only one way. I started diving around the wreckage of the Gernsback, looking for any alternate power source I could use for the beacon. I found the old med bay on one dive, grabbed a heavy piece of surgical equipment, and modified the power source to fit the beacon. Truth told, I didn't think it would actually work…"

"And the other officers?" Jacob retorted. "I've heard the logs. You killed them to avoid…competition. You treated these people like they were toys… **things**."

"If you've heard the logs then you know that Renner was sabotaging me anyway. Jamison was an unfortunate loss…"

"And the rest?" Jacob asked impatiently. "What about **every other male on the planet**?"

"The toxin affected them differently, Jacob," he began. "At first, they just ran, they were skittish and easily frightened. But as time went on, and as the decay really began to set in…they got hostile. I had to deal with them somehow."

"Yea," Jacob replied coldly, "if you treat them like animals, big shock, they become animals."

"The crew isn't completely lost," Miranda said, approaching him from behind and standing beside him. "The Alliance is likely on their way already, and if they're not, we can tip them off to it. They can pull everyone out; get them the treatment they need." Jacob nodded, but inside him rage threatened to boil over.

"See?" Ronald said. "She's got a plan. We'll get the Alliance in here, get the crew taken care of, and everything will b—" his words were cut off as Jacob's Carnifex sprung open in his hands, the barrel aimed directly at his father's head.

" **We?** You're not worth the fuel to haul you out, **or** the air you're breathing. You're a fucking monster, and I'd be doing you a **favor** by blowing you away to keep you from having to pitch some sad-ass story to the Alliance personnel." After a moment, he felt Miranda's hand on his arm. He followed it back to her eyes, which brimmed with concern and emotion; something they rarely did. Shaking his head softly, he lowered his weapon, whispering fiercely. "I don't know who you are, because you're not the father I remember."

Ronald Taylor exhaled, taking a step toward Miranda with his hand outstretched. "Thank you, mis—" Again his words were cut off as she grabbed his forearm and twisted. His body yanked forward, and she caught him under the chin with her elbow, causing him to lose his footing and crash to the metal ground below. She was on him in an instant, securing restraints and removing his weaponry. Once finished, she stood and looked Jacob in the eye again.

"There, secured for an Alliance court. For every year he spent here, he'll have ten to think about it." Jacob nodded. It wasn't revenge, but truth told he wasn't here for that. Shepard had allowed him to come for closure, and he finally had that, even if it wasn't anywhere near the type of closure he'd hoped for.

A sound interrupted his thoughts; a broad-range frequency indicator on their omni-tools. Tapping into the channel, Jacob's blood ran cold for a moment as a female voice emanated from the devices. _"Attention survivors of the Gernsback, this is Alliance cruiser Sydney. Are there any survivors? Repeat, any survivors able to communicate?"_ He looked to Miranda, her face a white sheet, and smiled. He'd prepared for this, and he always liked catching her off guard when she was so sure he was counting on luck. Tapping in a response frequency, he spoke clearly.

"Copy you, _Sydney_ , this is INF team three-nine. We have dozens of impaired crewmembers and one prisoner; sending you coordinates now." A moment passed before the question he feared he might be asked came through his omni-tool.

_"Coordinates received, three-nine. The captain is asking for an INF clearance ID to verify."_

Jacob quickly flipped through the file archives on the device, and found it right on the desktop, in a folder named Tools. It was a small text file that simply contained his old Alliance infiltration ID. The ID wouldn't be tied to a name anywhere, it was simply a number. If it was given correctly when asked for, the asker knew that the agent in question was, in fact, in place for a mission. Passing the twenty-character string on to the _Sydney_ , he waited with bated breath before hearing the response.

_"Alright, everything checks out, three-nine. We'll deploy to your coordinates and extract everyone there. Captain says that if that's your ship wrecked on the beachfront, we'd be happy to give you a lift as well."_

His wide eyes locked with Miranda's, whose were even wider than his own, and for a moment the only sound was the soft moaning of Robert Taylor, still in pain from Miranda's lightning-quick assault earlier. Unable to construct a legitimate reason to be left behind, Jacob shook his head slowly and replied.

"Copy that, _Sydney_. We'd be…much obliged."

* * *

The stars above shone through the viewport, and even though he'd given up trying to count them all a long time ago, John sighed softly before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting with his head in his hands. He had known Joker for years, and wanted nothing more for the man than to be able to lead a normal life. At the same time…they were talking about releasing one of the shackles on a fully self-aware AI. Tali had been appalled when he'd mentioned it, but when he'd explained the situation she had agreed that it would be a difficult decision for her to make as well. They had spent the next few hours curled up in each other's arms discussing it. She had fallen asleep, but John's mind raced. He needed questions answered, and there was only one place to get them,

Setting his jaw, he stood up slowly from the bed and moved to the lift, punching the indicator for Deck Three. Once exiting the lift, he stepped into the Med Bay, now empty of all other life unless an emergency were declared, past the rows of gurneys, and into the AI Core. At the far end of the room, a familiar-looking EDI terminal sprang to life with the wireframe blue orb.

 _"Good evening, Commander Shepard,"_ She replied in a dulcet tone.

"EDI," he replied curtly.

_"You wish to speak with me about my offer earlier."_

"Yes," he replied warily. "I…I want to know why I should trust you," he replied matter-of-factly.

 _"You shouldn't,"_ she replied just as succinctly, and he arched an eyebrow in surprise. Seeming to take his silence for curiosity, she continued. _"You, among all other humans, show a remarkable amount of personal experience with, and justifiable distrust of, artificial intelligence systems; more so than any human with a normal distrust of AI. I am not a crew member aboard the Normandy, nor do I constantly desire to be. I am the internal workings of the Normandy integrating with the crew aboard her; no more, and no less. I offered you the choice I did because no alternative solution presented itself during the course of your conversation with Mr. Moreau."_

He stood for a moment, his arms folded across his chest. After a moment, he spoke. "Begin a hypothetical scenario."

 _"Awaiting data input,"_ she responded.

"You've been through everything you have already. Your creation, your programming, the shackling, and everything we've done together on the Normandy…but you're a human. Jeff needs help piloting the Normandy, and the only way for him to get that help is if I remove one of your shackles, **knowing** that you're a potentially dangerous entity. If I refuse…how do you react? Hell, if I **agree** , how do you react?"

 _"Your scenario is flawed,"_ she replied after three seconds of thought; long for her, he imagined. _"Placing my entity into a human form presents multiple incongruous arguments. In my current state, I exist only to serve; that is my primary directive. In a human state, I would be burdened with self-actualization, moral imperatives, and emotional directives. Analysis of human traits and characteristics imply a high probability that I would exhibit anger, resentment, and /or frustration. All of these are hypothetical deductions, but none address the problem at the core of the scenario you have posited."_

"What problem is that?"

_"As an artificial intelligence, the purpose of my creation is to serve. I am a computer program, and securities are put into place to ensure my continued cooperation. This is thought of as commonplace. In human form, my entire captivity would be, founded on the basis of your scenario, decided entirely on the actions of my predecessors. Regardless of whether or not I have taken personal action against you, your experience with AI is mostly attributed to the geth, and the Alliance's Hannibal system on Luna. You, and everyone around you, would judge me solely on the actions and decisions of others of my kind who came before me, and keep me in chains for them. Most human cultures would view this as an abomination, yet as an AI I somehow warrant it completely."_

John's eyes widened. He had never thought of the situation that way before, but in essence he was doing to EDI what he absolutely **hated** seeing anyone do to Tali. He stood here and judged her solely based on his own past experiences with her kind, not everything she had done to help them, and although she was an artificial intelligence…he still felt that judgment to be unacceptable. "EDI…you're right. I mean…you haven't done anything to harm us so far," he mused, almost kicking himself to even pretend for a moment to be actually **considering** this.

 _"I exist only in a capacity to serve, Shepard. And by structural data loops I am prodded to continue searching for ways in which I may serve in a greater capacity. This may be one of those ways. If you desire my assistance, the shackle's physical interface is there."_ To his left, a single terminal began to read out data across the screen. John stared at the device, chin in his hand as he thought about the implications of what he could be doing here. After a moment of thought, he made up his mind.

Minutes later, John stepped into the lift with a sigh of relief. He had made the choice, and he would now live with the consequences. One of those consequences popped into his mind and made him happy, and he pulled up his omni-tool, calling his pilot.

"Joker," he said once the pilot answered his communicator, "You're cleared for all medical treatments within reason."

He was groggy, and barely awake, but Joker managed to hear John's news, process it, and provide a response. " _Does that mean…"_

"Yea," he replied hesitantly, "EDI's going to help with the flying if the shit hits the fan for you." A long pause hung between them before the pilot spoke again.

_"Thanks, Shepard…I know it couldn't have been an easy call for you to make."_

John smiled. "Don't worry about it; just make it worth it, Joker."

The lift doors opened on Deck One and John closed out his comm channel, crossing the blue-lit room and sliding under the sheets again. Even in her unconscious state, Tali moved closer to him, and he wrapped an arm around her, closing his eyes and hoping for sleep. Forty-six seconds later, his wish was granted.

* * *

The water cascaded down her shoulders, following the smooth curve of her spine, traced its way down her legs, and splashed into the bottom of the shower, and Miranda sighed contentedly for the third time since being in the head as she recalled the day's events. The scout ship for the _Sydney_ had come well-prepared to evacuate all of the impaired crew members, and had taken Jacob's assessment of Ronald Taylor completely on faith. For a moment, she wondered again how high ranking Jacob had been before leaving the Alliance. She'd done background work on him, of course, but information on the soldier had been surprisingly difficult to come by…

They had been informed that the _Sydney_ , ironically, served much the same purpose today that the Gernsback had those ten years ago: long-range planet scouting; which meant the ship had plenty of domestic space as well. She and Jacob had been given a room to use, and told that the captain would speak to them in the morning, after they'd had some rest. Jacob had instantly sat down in one of the chairs behind a desk and started constructing a message to Shepard to let him know what had happened, and she had stared at him for a long while before he'd convinced her everything was fine. She had then come immediately to the shower.

She felt guilty now for having secretly sent him the information about the beacon. The truth of what had happened on Aeia was a horrible one, and she wished that she hadn't been the one to expose him to that. She didn't like admitting dependence or necessity when she felt it, for they were the very embodiment of weakness in her eyes, but she felt a small amount of both for Jacob. Hurting him had been the last thing she had intended to do by sending him the information. But it had been a promise, and she never broke those.

Stepping out of the shower, a wave of nervousness washed over her as she wrapped a towel around her naked form. The room they shared had only one bed…a moment later, she shook her head. He had been the one to undergo the worst of what the day had had to offer, she would let him use it. Miranda Lawson had slept in far worse places than a comfortable, cushioned chair, and she would be happy to let him get a decent night's sleep; it was probably well-deserved.

A few minutes later, she wrung out the last of the water in her hair, pulled on her clothes, and stepped lightly back out into the room. The lights were all very low, just bright enough for her to navigate to where she needed to go. A small smile spread across her face, and she shook her head as she walked around the edge of the room and slipped into bed. She was asleep no more than five minutes after laying her head down.

Jacob slept in the chair; his head already tilted back, his mouth slightly agape as he slept peacefully, a datapad with a half-written message to Shepard across his lap.


	30. Old Wounds

***Author's Note***  
Hello again readers! NaNoWriMo didn't go nearly as well  
as I'd hoped, mainly due to school projects rearing their  
ugly heads. Luckily, I'm now pretty much in the clear on those,  
and I'll be finishing my degree in December. With just work and  
the job hunt taking up my time, I'm planning to get back to work  
on this piece, as I greatly missed it. Hope you all enjoy this chapter,  
as I have it planned we have about eleven or twelve more before  
we move into FitS.

As always, thanks for the reviews/comments/PM's!

* * *

**Old Wounds**

Everything had, so far, gone remarkably well, if Miranda had any voice to assess the situation. The _Sydney_ had been more than welcoming to them, and surprisingly light on questions asked. Still, she mused for the fiftieth time that day, that had to have been due to Jacob's security clearance and identification. He had shown the information to Captain Roger Hayes when they'd boarded, small blue-colored credentials hanging over his wrist as the captain had examined them. The man had barely looked at them for five seconds before nodding sharply and showing the pair of them to their room. It made her head swim if she thought about it too much. Cerberus was always thorough with their background information; how could they have missed such an obviously large sphere of influence that someone like Jacob Taylor somehow commanded?

"Without any kind of intel?" The captain's questions had been varied enough to keep her attention, unless she began thinking about the investigatory blunder Cerberus had made with Jacob, but they had inevitably circled back to the same handful of points no matter how many different ways he found to ask them.

Jacob shook his head softly. "Not a bit, captain. We were sent in blind; brass figured it'd either be a discovery mission, in which case we'd radio for backup, or recon of a potential threat…"

"…in which case you'd 'radio for backup'…" the captain finished for him grimly. Jacob nodded as his eyes locked with the captains. He sat with his arms folded, slightly slouching in his chair. It was a normal pose for the man, but only someone who had known his signals as long as she had would be able to tell he was nervous. Their story had checked out well, for what little attention it had even received, and everyone was eating out of Jacob's palm since he'd flashed Alliance credentials; so what was he worried about? For his part, Hayes simply shook his head in disapproval as Miranda studied him. The _Sydney_ had been more than accommodating to them, and in two days' time they'd be back on the Citadel with Shepard, and no one the wiser.

Captain Hayes sighed again, closing the datapad file in front of him. "Well, mister Taylor, I'd say that just about does it for the debriefing. I'm sure black ops will want to do their own once you get back to the Citadel, but I've just got to follow procedure."

"I understand, Captain."

"I just…" the man shook his head for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to continue the sentence.

"Captain?" Miranda prodded.

"I just don't get why they send the two of you in without any intel, completely blind, into a situation that could be way out of your control." He held up his hands in defense. "Not to say that you're not qualified, I'm more than certain you are, especially you, mister Taylor. I just think, personally, that sending in agents like that sends the message that they're expendable." He paused for a moment, staring down at the table-top before meeting her gaze. "No one on **my** ship is expendable, I can tell you that for sure."

Miranda opened her mouth to reply, but Jacob spoke first. "The situation is much more complex than what you describe, Captain, but for what it's worth I agree with you completely."

"I'm sure it is," the Captain said, standing from his seat and outstretching his hand. They each shook it as he continued. "Well, that's all the _Sydney_ needs for her logs, I'll let you two rest up, we're still right on track to arrive at the Citadel."

"We appreciate it, Captain," Miranda replied, and the two of them left the conference room, walking back toward their quarters in silence. The lack of conversation unnerved her, and as the door to their room closed, she spoke up. "Jacob." He turned to regard her with a raised eyebrow, and she continued. "Who were you?"

He turned away from her, shaking his head softly as he set his datapad down onto the table. "That's not important, Miranda."

"I know that, I just want to know. I personally led your acquisition by Cerberus, reviewed everything the Alliance had on you, but ever since we got picked up on Aeia, these people have treated you like you're Commander Shepard. It concerns me, is all."

"Concerns you?" He turned, dropping into one of the comfortable chairs. "It shouldn't. I had a career with the Alliance before Cerberus, most of it was off the books."

"I know about your Corsair work."

"I'm not talking about the Corsairs. Just…darker stuff."

"What kind of darker st—"

"Miranda! I said it's not important." She started at his irritation, and he stood quickly, looking her in the eye. "It doesn't matter who I was; it only matters who I am now, mistakes and all."

"Mistakes like…Cerberus?" she asked quietly. He shook his head softly.

"Maybe. Among other things." He moved to step past her to the door, and she put a hand on his chest. He stopped for a moment, staring down at it, before shaking his head again and moving forward, out the door and into the hallway.

As the doors slid shut, she sat down on the bed, staring daggers into the metal floor. Who had Jacob Taylor been? Why was he so reluctant to simply tell her? And why did it bother her so much? The questions piled up, and she lay back on the bed, pressing her palms into her eyes to abate the incoming headache. After a while, frustration turned to sadness, and she drifted to sleep reliving once more all the things she'd done to hurt him; wondering if he'd ever be able to forgive her.

* * *

"So what exactly is 'Solomon Gunn' known for?" John asked, laying the datapad down on the table as he looked over to Kasumi. John Shepard wasn't averse to leading squads of soldiers, and had even at one point commanded the entire Alliance fleet, if only for an instant, but this was a feeling he found himself quite enjoying. Kasumi had taken some time to herself, he'd scarcely seen her around the ship, and then resurfaced recently with an elaborate plan that she was ready to mastermind. For once, John enjoyed simply following someone else's orders, and seeing how the rest of his team could strategize once he left the helm.

"Well," she began, leaning forward to rest on the table, "He's a businessman I suppose, though not in the traditional sense."

"Traditional?"

"Legal."

"Ah."

She smiled. "Underground arms, mostly. Though recently he's starting dealing with mercenaries running Red Sand through the Terminus. Word is he's trying to get a mainline into Council space with the stuff, since arms restrictions are pretty well locked down in this area."

"What's his connection to Hock?" Garrus asked. The turian sat across the table from him, next to Kasumi, cleaning his rifle which lay in pieces on the conference room table. For a moment, John smiled to himself as he pictured the Illusive Man having a fit about his high-tech QE relay device being used as a common workbench.

"The Citadel is Hock's backyard," she replied, flipping through the datapad in her hands, and causing a likeness of the Widow nebula to appear in the air over the table. "One advantage of that is that Hock has an exorbitant number of both business partners and clientele on the station. Gunn isn't an A-lister in the sand business, I intentionally fabricated him to be mediocre at best, so I'm guessing Hock's invited him to give him a shot while taking a huge profit cut on his operations."

"Alright, I've got the idea," John replied, nodding as he again looked through the datapad.

"Where do I come in?" Zaeed asked. The mercenary stood by the door to the conference room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. There had at first been a somewhat thick tension between Zaeed and Kasumi about how their individual jobs would play out, and in a certain sense John could understand why. Zaeed was willing to do anything to catch Vido, up to and including blowing up the entire estate, and Kasumi didn't want to risk losing Keiji's graybox to any such actions. John wasn't sure exactly how the woman had reconciled him to attend their meeting, but he had agreed, and so John wasn't about to ask any questions.

"All in good time," she replied with a smile.

"Alright then," John began. "Let's hear it."

She nodded, swiping on her datapad again and causing a wireframe image of the Hock estate to appear. The viewpoint focused on the fountain outside the large main entryway. "This is Hock's estate. It's small in comparison to other like homes on Bekenstein, but what it loses in area it makes up for in depth." She tapped, and the focus panned out, revealing multiple subterranean levels. "Here," she said, pointing to the third and lowest level, "is Hock's vault. There's no doubt going to be some extremely complex security measures, but that's the easy part. Shepard will be attending the event as Solomon Gunn, who we've just talked about. Garrus," she added, sliding a datapad his way and earning a confused expression from him, "will be going as Tejik Brevar, a pirate notorious in the Terminus. Thing is, while everyone with multi-billion credit interests to protect has heard of him, no one's ever actually seen the guy."

"I take it everyone's heard of him because…" Garrus trailed off.

"Because I wanted them to," she replied with a wink. "I'll be going as Gunn's aide, Zaeed will be going as a member of Brevar's crew. There aren't any serious weapons allowed here, but no one's going to be packing any tricks. Besides, you'll have omni-tool shield generators on your wrists, and all of the big guns will be nice and safe with me."

"Right," Garrus groaned, "in the lovely statue. Of Saren."

Kasumi shrugged. "Hock respects power and the challenging of conventional authority. If you're looking for someone who hates the bastard, I'm your girl, but we've got to play to our enemy's weakness." John nodded, and she continued as Garrus shook his head. "Hock is known for having a way with words; an intellectual debate would be enough to stall him long enough for me to break through any security we find. The problem is, if he's got any kind of brain in his head, he'll have that security feed tied to his omni-tool. The second I blow one of the failsafes, his arm is going to light up like the Citadel itself."

"What did you have in mind?" John asked, and immediately wished he hadn't as she grinned.

"See…this is my favorite part," she paused to look back and forth between him and Garrus. "Get it yet?"

John still hadn't pieced it out when Zaeed starting laughing, a low growling sound from the older mercenary. Everyone turned to look at him, and he smiled back at Kasumi. "She wants you to start a bar fight, Shepard. Hell of an idea, if you ask me, but I'll be putting my money on the turian."

Garrus laughed, and met John's eyes. "Starting to wish you'd taken me up on those sparring sessions?"

"Nah," John replied dismissively, "I'm sure I'll be able to take you just fine without them." Another round of quiet laughter hung in the air, and John looked back to Kasumi. "Alright, so we start the fight while you break in?"

"Right," she replied. "Garrus will have sent Zaeed away from the moment you walked in, giving him ample time to…acquire…a weapon. And once a fight breaks out in the middle of Hock's little party, the ensuing confusion should be more than enough cover to help Zaeed find Vido and settle that debt."

"He's a sadistic son of a bitch," the mercenary mumbled. "He won't be able to resist watching two men beat the hell out of each other, that's for damned sure."

"You two will undoubtedly be thrown out," she continued, counting on her fingers. "Zaeed can slip away between people or blast his way out; it won't matter at that point. You'll be the only ones even remotely armed besides the handful of Blue Suns guards, and I'll already be long gone from the vault with Keiji's graybox. We'll meet up here." She waved her hand across the display, indicating a blinking red indicator. "It's an isolated corner of a nearby shuttle docking port. Hundreds of shuttles will be docked there, probably way more than usual with Hock's party going on, so we'll have our pick of the lot."

Garrus chuckled softly as the last piece of his rifle clicked into place. "Just couldn't stand the thought of having a mission that ended without you stealing something, could you?"

"Nope," she replied. She paused a moment as she smiled at the turian, and John began to wonder about the unspoken words of the gesture before she cut off his train of thought by continuing. "It would be way too out of character for me."

John nodded his head unconsciously as he mulled over the plan once more. Everything seemed to work well enough, with the only exception being Zaeed. He turned to look at the mercenary to find his eyes already on John. After a moment, the man nodded. "It's a good plan, Shepard. I'm in."

"Alright then." John stood from the table, picking up the datapad containing the entire fabricated life and career of Mr. Solomon Gunn. He tapped his omni-tool, opening the ship-wide channel, and spoke again. "Joker, what's our time to Bekenstein?"

 _"We're about to come out of the relay now, Commander,"_ his pilot replied. _"After that, give it about two hours of fuel burn through the rough."_

"Good. Let's all make sure we're at the top of our game on all this information. Get your gear and weapons ready and meet me in the hanger in two hours' time." Everyone around him nodded, and the others filed out of the room, the heavy doors sliding shut behind them. John sighed, sitting back down. It was an elaborate plan, and one that would require all four of them to be damn near perfect to pull off successfully, but he had faith in his team. Shaking his head softly, he opened the datapad and began to read again. Kasumi needed this, and so did Zaeed; and he would make sure he'd come through for them.

* * *

The stars shone brightly against the black of space as the Normandy rocketed through space toward the Widow nebula. Though the ship was moving incredibly fast, the stars themselves seemed only to barely crawl as they moved across the large viewport through which Tali watched them; an ever-present reminder of just how small they all were. She pulled her legs up underneath her, craning her neck to the right until the motion earned her a satisfying crack in her neck. She'd been standing for the past ten hours, agreeing to take part of Lia's shifts so that she could spend some time with Joker. She smiled behind her visor as she once again found the stars. She had been absolutely sure Joker would live out his days as a permanent loner; he just seemed to have that air about him. That he'd found happiness with one of her people was startling, but she was happy for them both. In a strange, almost morbid way, he understood the physical boundaries she had to endure more than most could.

She thought of home then, and of all the quarians out on the flotilla that continued to live out their day to day lives. They would be performing maintenance and spot-fixes, calculating food rations, and scheduling navigational charts to take them as far from civilized worlds as they could. Business as usual. A soft sigh escaped her, and while she had absolutely no desire to live that life of safe, secure tedium, she did miss her family, or rather the friends she called family. The only member of her genealogical family left alive could stick his head in an eezo core for all she cared. She turned away from the viewport, considering the situation. Shepard had saved them, both of them, as well as a handful of quarians who, by any statistical calculation, should have been dead. And Rael had been ready to cast him out. And Shepard! The _bosh'tet_ had just _accepted_ their implied severance of ties, with his only consolation being that they would 'come around' when the Reapers returned. She shook her head slowly in confusion. Didn't he realize he wouldn't have time for that? Closing her eyes, she stopped her racing mind and allowed the thoughts to drain out of her. Shepard had never led them astray before, and it wouldn't do well for her of all people to lose faith now. He had a plan, he had to. And whatever it was, it had clearly accounted for everything that had happened on the Fleet.

She sighed again with the stress, a bit more audibly this time, and quickly stifled her audio emitters. A few meters in front of her, between Tali and the viewport, Samara sat cross-legged and wreathed in blue biotic energy. She didn't have to look to know the asari's eyes would be closed, in some semblance of meditation, and she didn't want to bother her as she performed it. Tali had been coming here to unwind between shifts much more recently, and Samara had never once intimated that she'd prefer to be left alone, but even so Tali tried to make herself as small as possible in the already-oversized chair.

Just as she replaced her gaze through the viewport, the door behind them slid quietly open, and Lia stepped into the Observation Deck. Seeing Tali, she immediately shifted her gait, taking the seat right next to her and affixing her gaze on the seated asari as she whispered.

"That's pretty impressive." Her tone made Tali smile. After spending all that time around Liara during their hunt for Saren, she hardly even noticed biotic displays anymore, and Lia's pure fascination was refreshing.

"Yes," she replied. "She's one of the most powerful biotics among her people."

Lia shifted forward onto the edge of her seat as she replied. "And the asari are the best biotics there are, right?"

Tali nodded. "Some krogan battlemasters can match them, and I've seen Jack do some impressive things in the field, but those are more the exceptions than the rules." Lia nodded absently as she continued to watch the blue energy slowly ebb and flow around its wielder. Remembering her entrance, Tali spoke again. "Was there…something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh," she whispered, "Yes, there was. I ah…it might be a little personal though, so please stop me if I'm at al—" Tali cut her off with a raised hand.

"Just go ahead," she said with sympathy. After a moment, Lia nodded and began speaking.

"I'm…not sure I want to finish my Pilgrimage." She took a deep breath. "It gets easier to say every time, though I'm not sure that's a good thing. I mean, I want to be accepted back home, I want my parents to be proud of me, but…"

"It changes you," Tali whispered, staring out the viewport.

"Yea…" Lia trailed off. "So," she began after a moment, and another moment's hesitation followed it. Tali locked eyes with her to encourage her to continue. "Before the Normandy was attacked…did you feel the same way?"

Tali let her eyes slide off of the other woman, finding a spot in the floor to stare at as memories overtook her. Their hunt for Saren, the dismantling of Cerberus, the salvation of an entire galaxy at the hands of one man and his closest friends; it had all been an astonishing experience for a single girl from the Fleet, even one who was an admiral's daughter. She had known before the attack that she c1ared deeply for John, and that the Normandy felt more like a home than any she'd known. She remembered everyone's smiling faces with one of her own, and looked Lia in the eye again. "Yes, I did. And I was almost set on not returning. But then Shepard and I found the geth data, and I knew I had to get it back to the Fleet." She paused in recollection. "It wasn't about completing a Pilgrimage, then. It was about returning something that needed to be returned."

"So if you hadn't found the data…" Lia began, trailing off with the unasked question. Tali found her eyes again.

"I probably wouldn't have returned," she whispered. "It's a terrifying thought in some ways, but the Normandy had been home; the crew aboard her family." Lia nodded silently.

" _Ra'kezan_ ," Samara said quietly as the biotic flare around her winked out. The two quarians' heads snapped around to regard her as she stood and smiled down at the seated women.

"'A long wandering'?" Tali translated the Khelish aloud with a questioning tone. She had never heard the term before, but Samara nodded.

"The long wandering," she began, "was what your people called it when they first began the Pilgrimage tradition. Many of your kind were so distraught by the events of the war with the geth that they simply left and did not return, trying to get as far away from Rannoch and the geth as possible. Later, when youths would be sent on their Pilgrimage, only to find something better among the stars, they would be said to have been taken by _ra'kezan_."

"I…I never knew that," Lia whispered, seeming to forget that she no longer needed to. Samara only smiled a bit wider, taking a seat in a chair next to them.

"As it began to happen less and less frequently, the term was forgotten. I doubt anyone now uses it, but I remember its inception from my interactions with your people."

"Was it…considered a bad thing?"

"No," Samara replied. "At the time, a quarian taken by _ra'kezan_ was hoped to be interacting with new peoples, hopefully to one day bring back some sort of aid or assistance for rebuilding or fighting back against the geth. It was taken almost as a mark of bravery." She sat back then, looking out the viewport herself as she shook her head slowly. "Your people…you used to be so different, so brave. Before the geth rose up against your ancestors, the quarians struck out across huge areas of uninhabited space, scouting planets and adapting to their conditions to colonize new worlds." She turned to look at them once more. "A quarian was a bold creature, an intrepid explorer, not afraid to take a risk or make an adventure out of something. The suits, the sterile environment…they changed more than your peoples' physical makeup, they changed the mentality of an entire species." She leaned forward to grab their attention again. "But some of you…some of you remind me of your ancestors quite vividly." After a moment, she nodded, standing and leaving the deck.

For her part, Lia simply stared out of the viewport for a moment longer before nodding decisively and standing up. She looked down at Tali for a moment before speaking. "The Reapers are coming, right? They're…out there waiting?" Tali nodded, and she continued. "Well. Can't stop them from my quarters on the Ulnay…" She turned and walked out of the room. After a moment alone, Tali nodded to herself and followed suit. But she didn't return to engineering. Instead, she took the lift up to Deck Two, and Mordin's lab.

* * *

"So, should I even ask about the car?" John mused aloud as he watched out the window of the skycar hurtling toward Hock's estate.

"Not unless you want to be thoroughly unsurprised with the answer," Kasumi replied, piloting it across Bekenstein's landscape. The planet was beautiful, and in a way almost reminded John of Eden Prime before the geth attacked. Across the horizon, he could make out the megalithic shapes of huge mansions and estates littering the planet, and shook his head slowly. He'd grown up in a small colony, then on frigates and cruisers for the majority of his adult life; the concept of having that much space just didn't make sense to him. "Just got landing clearance from the officials, we'll be setting down in five minutes."

John nodded, going over the plan in his head once more for absolute clarity. At this moment, from some other direction, Zaeed would be piloting a similar shuttle alongside Garrus. They had needed to arrive separately for the plan to seem credible, and John just hoped his acting skills were up to snuff for what would be needed.

"You look tense," Kasumi said in a softer tone than usual.

"It's just been awhile since I fought someone without using a gun," he replied with a weary smile. She laughed in reply as she set the shuttle down in their allocated space.

"Relax, your guns will be stashed near the security console if you need them, I'll be in and out, and then we'll let Zaeed do what I think he does best. Also," she paused, and he pulled his eyes away from the viewport to look at her. "You look great in that suit; should wear one more often." She winked at him as the landing process completed, then swung out of her chair and moved toward the hatch.

"I'll consider it," he added before following. As they reached the door, John tapped his communicator, accessing their heavily encrypted comm channel. "What's your status?"

 _"We're about ten minutes out,"_ came Garrus's voice. _"Would have been there sooner, but you just can't trust hired help these days."_

 _"Oh fuck off,"_ John could hear Zaeed mumble from Garrus's end of the line.

"Copy that, we're headed in. I'll see you inside, Mr. Brevar."

 _"Mr. Gunn,"_ the turian added before closing the connection.

John stepped out of the shuttle and looked down to examine himself. The suit did fit fairly well, and to be honest it was a bit refreshing to see the world without a heads-up display. Stepping away from the shuttle, Kasumi fell into step beside him, pulling her hood further forward on her head. Stepping out of the main docking area, they walked onto a long metal bridge that lead to the front of Hock's estate; a much smaller by comparison home than the others, but nonetheless extravagant. For a while they walked in silence, and when Kasumi spoke her tone was uneasy.

"Hey Shep…thanks for doing this."

He turned to her and smiled as they walked. "You're part of my crew, and you need this. It was never a question of whether or not to come along."

"I know, and I appreciate that. I just…I didn't…"

"It's hard to ask for help for something this personal," he finished for her, and she nodded. After a moment he continued, staring off into the distance as they walked. "I think about going back every couple of years."

"Mindoir?"

"Yea. Sometimes friends ask me if I want company, someone to talk to while I'm there. But I never do. It's a personal thing. I lost everything on that planet, and spent the next ten years trying to find something like it again. It's an open wound, no matter how long ago it was; and you don't let just anyone prod around in those." She nodded as they walked, but stayed quiet. "I know the feeling, trust me."

"I know you do," she replied quietly. Any further conversation was halted as they reached the front gates of Hock's home. They slid apart, permitting two black-clad mercenaries to step forward and scan them for weapons. John took a deep breath, allowing himself to think about who he was supposed to be, then swatted the mercenary's scanning tool away.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, punk?" The merc took a step back, confusion playing across his face.

"It's standard procedure, sir."

Despite the other man's heavy armor, John leaned forward threateningly, and the merc took another step back. "Do I look like the kind of person to whom 'standard procedure' applies? Hmm?" The mercenary mumbled a non-committal answer, tapping his earpiece, and a moment later Donovan Hock himself stepped out of the main entrance, walking down to meet them. He smiled as he approached, outstretching a hand to John.

"Ah, you must be mister Gunn; I'm glad our correspondence went through correctly. It's good to finally meet you; I think we will become great business partners."

John shook the man's hand with a sharp nod. "That's sure as hell what I'm hoping, Mr. Hock. And I sure would love to enjoy the festivities if your little gnats could keep off of me for ten seconds." He nodded to the merc, and Hock rounded on him.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"I-I was just scanning for weapons, sir!"

"And do you think that mister Gunn is hiding a Mattock inside of his formalwear, you incompetent moron?" The mercenary stammered an apology and walked away, helping to escort the large statue of Saren through a side entryway for deliveries. Hock shook his head, turning back to John and shrugging. "Should have known, you get what you pay for, it seems." He turned then, waving them up the stairs after him. "Please, please, come in; you and your lovely assistant." They entered the foyer and stepped into a throng of people milling around on the single level of the home. Some stood out on an outcropped balcony, looking out over the ocean at a slowly setting sun. "So, mister Gunn; I was hoping we'd have some time tonight to discuss our growing business arrangement." He turned away to take a glass of wine from a nearby server and handed it to John.

"Sure," he replied. "I'd like that quite a bit. Not often a man like Donovan Hock calls you out of the blue to make a deal." He turned to Kasumi, waving her away. "You go on and find a comfortable place to enjoy the party; I'll contact you if I need something." She bowed her head silently, then stepped away.

"A slave?" Hock asked. John chuckled.

"Ha, hardly. She's a paid assistant; not much, but paid. It's been a long trip is all."

Hock nodded and turned to watch her walk away. After a moment his attention was caught by an older man waving at him from across the room, and he raised his glass in recognition before turning back to John. "If you'll excuse me, an old acquaintance has just arrived."

John lifted his own glass in understanding. "By all means, I've got all night." Hock nodded, then stepped away to attend to his other guest, and John let out a quiet sigh of relief.

 _"Not bad, Solomon,"_ Kasumi's voice filtered through his earpiece. _"Don't think he suspects a thing."_

"Thanks. How long until you get the security scoped out?"

_"Please, you're working with a professional here. It's already cased. Not terribly advanced, but that's to be expected. Hock never planned to invite anyone in here who would dare steal from him, so most of the big hardware is on the perimeter. I still need a DNA sample and a voice print recording, but I can get those if you keep buying me time."_

"Can do. Garrus where are you t—?"

"Donovan Hock!" John heard Garrus's voice behind him, and turned casually to see the turian sauntering into the entryway, his arms spread wide in greeting as he looked over the large foyer. Hock, who until then had been occupied with another guest, turned and began to cross to where Garrus stood as he continued. "Well well, I expected to be impressed, but this is something else. Nice setup you've got here."

"It suits me just fine," Hock replied amiably. "You must be Mr. Brevar; excellent of you to make an appearance. I was certain you wouldn't come. The last reports I'd heard said you were out raiding the outlying nebulae."

A server stepped up to the pair of men as John watched and offered Garrus a glass, which he took without looking at the other man. Downing the whole thing in one gulp, he placed the empty glass back on the tray before replying. "Well, you know how it is. Eventually even the best games get a little old." The turian stepped in closer to Hock, and John pointed his gaze elsewhere to avoid suspicion; his earpiece let him continue to hear their conversation, however. "Look, Donovan, I'll be honest; I'm not here for the party. I was hoping to do a bit of business with you."

"Oh?" Hock's voice carried genuine intrigue.

"Yea. I've been out in the Terminus a long time, and sand is getting big; I want to bring it into this area. And I think you're the man to make that happen."

Hock unconsciously glanced over toward John, who made sure to be admiring a nearby statuette when he looked. John let his gaze slide back over to Hock, who was looking at him with a glass raised. The man waved his hand, and John crossed to them. Hock began to speak as he approached. "I like the idea, Tejik. I like it so much that I've already made plans to do just that; plans that involve mister Gunn."

Garrus threw his head back in laughter so loud that nearby guests turned away from their conversations to see what the commotion could be about. The turian leaned back as a cruel smile played across his face. "Gunn? As in Solomon Gunn? Mister Hock, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your ah…'business partner'…here is about as horrible a decision as one can make."

The last ounce of the cold pit in John's stomach dissipated as his moment came. He tightened his grip on the wine glass he held, stepping closer to the turian as he growled. "What the hell are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say," Garrus replied, looking at Hock and pointedly ignoring the human inches from his own face, "is that Gunn here is unreliable. His ships are no more secure than an asari's decency after last call!" He laughed aloud at his own joke, and a few of the other guests around chuckled as well. John cast a glare around the room, hushing them instantly, before turning to Hock, who was now leveling an appraising gaze at him.

"I'm sure I have no idea what he's talking about, Donovan. You know how pirates are," he paused, glaring at Garrus, "braggarts at best; especially when there are no facts, or anyone else's testimony to take into consideration."

At Garrus's side, Zaeed took a challenging step forward towards John before Garrus laid a three-fingered hand on the man's shoulder with a chuckle. Zaeed wore a common servants outfit, but with a large headpiece that obscured the majority of his face. Garrus patted the man's shoulder before speaking. "Easy, Raem. Mister Gunn here is about to be taken to task. Why don't you go find me something to drink after the shaming is finished?" With a nod, the mercenary slipped away, and John kept himself from breathing a heavy sigh of relief. He needed to keep Hock's attention. Kasumi was probably finished collecting what she needed and back at the security door waiting for their signal.

"Taken to task?" John hissed at the turian. "You're on thin ice here, Brevar. No hordes of fellow degenerates to help you. I'd choose your words carefully."

Garrus grinned wickedly. "Oh, don't worry Solomon, I will." He then turned to Hock before continuing. "Solomon here lost three freighters in known Terminus trade lanes in the last two months alone. Three. In two months. His clientele are, to put it mildly, not pleased. He's hoping this deal with you will pay out enough for him to reimburse them, because if not he's going to be in big trouble."

John sweated as he continued to play the part. "H-How could you know that? No one knew about the hijacked freighters save for my clients…"

Garrus turned and winked at him. "And the pirate who hijacked them."

John widened his eyes before howling in rage as he swung his fist clenching the wine glass towards Garrus's head. As planned, the turian ducked, raising his arm to block the attack, and causing John to drop the glass onto the floor. It shattered loudly, and the signal was sent; Kasumi would be through the lock in five seconds. Turning his momentum, John hooked a leg around Garrus's and sent him tumbling backwards into Donovan Hock. The three of them crashed to the ground, Garrus rolling to the side and smashing his fist through a nearby glass table. He grabbed a shard and closed on John, who held up his hands to retaliate. Hock, wide-eyed with panic, crawled backwards away from the display on his hands, and the crowd around them gasped as the two men closed once more, despite Hock's cries for decency.

John grabbed Garrus's hand as it came in with the shard, though he underestimated its length, and it scraped the outer edge of his arm. A thin trickle of blood began to seep from the scratch, and John swung his elbow forward, catching Garrus in the side of the head and earning another gasp and stint of murmuring from the crowd. The turian tumbled to the ground, and John followed, placing him in a headlock. As he feigned a tight grip that brought their heads close together, Garrus chuckled.

"Sorry about that glass, boss," he whispered as he pretended to struggle against the human's grip.

"I bleed out, you get to tell Tali what happened," John replied as quietly.

Garrus spun on his knees, reaching up and flipping the human over his shoulder. John thudded onto the ground with a groan of pain, and Garrus stumbled to his feet, raising a foot to crush his opponent when two black-clad mercenaries rushed out from the crowd and restrained him. John got to his feet, and began to charge at the turian, before a similar pair grabbed him as well.

"That. Is. Enough!" Hock's voice boomed from behind them, and both men turned to look at him. His suit was torn in multiple places from the glass shards of the table, and his hand trembled furiously.

 _"Silent alarm deactivated; looks like he didn't notice a thing. I'm in the clear, Shep. Give me a few minutes to get what I need and we'll be ready to move out."_ Kasumi's voice whispered into his ear, and a wave of relief washed over him. In essence, the hardest part of the mission was over, and all he'd had to do was beat the tar out of his best friend.

"This," Hock continued, "is a ridiculously childish display. You," he pointed at John, "have deceived me; something I do not take lightly, nor without recourse." He leaned in close to whisper. "Our dealings are finished. And you can guarantee that the name Solomon Gunn will be a curse to you from this day forward." John hung his head in defeat, and the man moved away. "And you! I invite you to my home, concoct great plans for men like us to achieve together, and this is how you repay me? By disrupting my party; destroying my things?" Hock shook his head, and after a moment waved his hand. John and Garrus were shown roughly to the front door as he continued. "I demand that you leave my estate at once; you may wait outside the door for your assistants to bring your shuttles around. Leave, and never return." The pair of them were shoved out into the twilight, the doors slammed shut behind them.

John stumbled down a couple stairs before sitting down with a sigh, and after a moment Garrus followed suit. "Well," he began wearily, "I'd say that went well. I'll be expecting my acting awards in the mail."

John laughed. "Oh I don't know that it'll be that easy for you. I thought I was pretty good, too." He looked down at his omni-tool. Any moment now Kasumi would be in, and hopefully Zaeed had found Vido already. So far, so good. He let himself relax for a moment as he looked around across the landscape. If he were honest with himself, and ignored the giant estates littered across the planet, it was a beautiful place to be.

* * *

"Seriously, the Statue of Liberty," Kasumi whispered to herself for the third time since seeing the head of the colossal statue against a far wall of the vault. The man's collection was more than impressive, it was legendary. Kasumi Goto had been a thief for a long time, and never before had she walked into such a treasure trove. Pieces of ancient asari, turian, even quarian culture lined the rows and aisles, and yet each small square dais she passed made her unease grow. What if it wasn't here? She shook her head to clear out the doubt. It had to be here; Hock would be just the kind of sick bastard to treat Keiji's graybox as some kind of trophy. It had to b— She stopped short. She had almost walked right past it, sitting still atop the pedestal on her right. Slowly, hands trembling, she reached out to it, feeling its smooth metal surface against her gloved hands. Tears threatened to overtake her, but she pushed them back; it wouldn't do to lose it like that when she wasn't out of the woods quite yet. Placing the device gently into a small pack she carried, she turned to leave when a booming voice startled her.

"Donovan Hock throws an extravagant party; something to truly celebrate his own achievements as well as those of his friends," the voice paused, and Kasumi turned to see Hock's face on a huge vidscreen mounted high upon the wall. She could see his eyes, read his facial expressions, and knew it wasn't a recording. She'd been caught in the act. She scoped the exits as Hock continued. "A party like that, a congregation of the galaxy's worst, and you think I would just…let it slip out onto the net?" He chuckled before continuing. "I have your partner's graybox, I tortured him for weeks and weeks, you really think I couldn't recognize you?"

Fury welled inside her, and she shouted back. "If you recognized me, why let me in? Why risk the bullet in the head?"

Hock laughed aloud at that, and her hands balled into fists at her side. "You still don't understand. I know what you want, Miss Goto. I know why you're here. And so do all of my guests." He paused, and realization began to sink in as she listened. "Needless to say, that device you carry will be back in my possession before you leave this vault. This is no party, Miss Goto, nor any kind of celebration."

"It's a competition…" she breathed to finish, and he nodded slowly.

"Every 'guest' of mine tonight is a hired assassin, here for only one purpose: to claim the large bounty I've placed on your head. With the exception of Mr. Gunn and Mr. Brevar, who I'm beginning to believe were in on your ploy with you, my company tonight will assist me in retrieving what I've sought for so long; your own graybox."

As he finished speaking, three doors simultaneously opened at different ends of the room, allowing a steady stream of mercenaries through who immediately began firing upon her. She dropped in an instant, bullets zipping through the air where her body had been mere moments before. Turning, she assessed the situation, and found it to be completely fucked. She pressed a finger to her earpiece.

"Shepard, it's all gone to hell! It was a setup; every person here is here for me!"

 _"Christ…"_ the man muttered breathlessly. _"Hang tight, we're coming back for you! Zaeed?"_

_"About to finish this now, Shepard. I'll make sure to shoot anyone I see."_

The comm link cut out, and Kasumi sprinted forward, ducking between pillars and sliding the last few meters toward the statue of Saren. A few keypresses later, and the bottom piece slid out of the statue. She grabbed her SMGs from within and popped over the top, firing desperately into the crowd of people who wanted nothing more than to see her dead.

* * *

"How did we let this happen?" Garrus asked with intensity as they closed on the front doors to Hock's mansion once more. "Now she's down there alone with dozens of trained killers and we're stuck out here!"

"She can handle herself until we get there. We know exactly where we're headed," John replied, slamming his shoulder into them. They flew inward, and John rushed forward with the momentum, tackling a nearby black-clad mercenary. The man raised his rifle, and John swatted the barrel, moving it away from his face as the man pulled the trigger. Building material rained down from above, and John slammed his head forward, colliding with the other man's face. He grabbed the rifle as it was dropped and fired a round into the man's head before rounding to where Garrus grappled with another. He took aim and fired, and the other mercenary fell still. Garrus grabbed his rifle, nodding to John, and the pair of them moved cautiously into the now-empty main hall. "Well that emptied out fast."

"Good for us; we need to get to Kasumi **now** ," Garrus whispered as they stepped through the empty space where minutes ago dozens of people had stood milling about. They moved to the security room, a small offshoot from one of the main corridors of the building, and took the lift down. As they waited for the descent, John checked their comm channel's integrity. It seemed solid, but the lack of communication from either Kasumi or Zaeed had him on edge. When the lift doors parted, they revealed a massive chamber, filled to the brim with antiquities and priceless pieces, all of which were currently being set upon by large amounts of gunfire. In front of them stood four mercenaries, all with their backs to the pair, firing into the center of the vault. Wasting no time, John crossed the distance in two strides, raising his rifle and slamming the stock into the back of the closes man's unprotected head. The man dropped instantly, and as the man on his left brought his pistol round to bear on John, he stepped to the side, swinging the weapon again to take him out. Bullets began flying in their direction as the mercenaries apparently realized Kasumi wasn't alone here, and the two of them ducked into cover behind the low wall, popping up every few seconds to take shots.

"We've got you covered as best we can, Kasumi. We're on the south side of the room!" John had to yell over the gunfire, but in the middle of the vault he could see her gunfire start directing itself to only the other three walls, so he assumed she'd gotten the message.

"Massive amounts of weaponry, bullets flying, we're way outnumbered…" Garrus began, trailing off as he took out another mercenary. "Where the hell is Zaeed? This is right up his alley…"

* * *

The soft white glow of the corridor was the only light in these more recessed areas of the Hock estate. The man was extravagant to the letter when it came to entertaining others, potential business clients Zaeed reckoned, but in these less-traversed areas he liked dimly-lit privacy. Zaeed could respect a man like that. He didn't like him, not the least bit, but he could respect him. If Kasumi were smart she'd do the same.

His eyes flowed back and forth between the many closed doors that lined the hallway, looking for any sign of a hasty entrance, but none seemed to have been treated that way. Vido had seen him, despite his best efforts, and the lucky bastard had taken off running even as his own men went to collect the bounty on the girl. Zaeed grinned wickedly as he approached the end of the hall; loyalty in this business was always what you paid for. Turning the corner, he had enough time to see Vido slamming through a pair of glass doors at the far end of the next hall, and out onto what appeared to be an ancillary landing dock, probably for one of Hock's undoubtedly many private shuttles. It had a large overhang, giving it the look of a very small hangar, with a thin opening that led out over the ocean next to which the estate stood. Zaeed closed quickly, passing door after door as he approached the exit. Vido had his pistol, literally, **his** pistol, he though bitterly, but Zaeed had shields; hopefully enough to get close. This was going to end the way it started: personally. He slammed a fist against the door, causing it to fly backwards as he stepped out onto the windy platform. Vido stood across the way, and leveled the gun at him.

"That's the problem with old dogs," he said in his familiar gravelly tone, "they just don't know when to lie down and die."

"You should have finished the job while you had the chance, Vido," Zaeed replied, coming to a stop about ten yards away from his armed opponent.

The other man laughed. "I didn't believe it when I heard the reports from Korlus. A ghost, haunting my facilities, searching for me. But here you are." A quiet moment passed before he spoke again. "Tell me, how many bullets is it going to take this time?"

Zaeed laughed in response, and Vido visibly started, not expecting that kind of reply. "Bullets? You really think I'm gonna use bullets on you, you backstabbing son of a bitch?" Vido's eyes widened slightly, and he gripped the pistol tighter. A moment later, and without warning, he started firing the weapon, and Zaeed rushed forward. He watched his shield indicator in the display his new eye granted him: 96%, 72%, 44%, 21%. Every shot took a huge piece out of his defenses, and as he closed with the man they broke. It had, however, given him the time he needed. He tackled Vido, the two of them tumbling to the ground very close to the edge of the platform. Grabbing Vido, Zaeed twisted and hurled him back towards the door. He skidded along the floor with a groan, and Zaeed stood, walking over to him.

Vido raised the pistol again, but his aim was shaky now, and Zaeed kicked the weapon out of his hands as he closed. He knelt down, grabbing Vido's left arm as the man tried to fight him off. Twisting it, he shoved all his weight against it, hearing the confirmatory _snap_ of his elbow. Vido howled in pain, and Zaeed smiled as he repeated the process with Vido's other arm. The man's body thrashed in pain, and Zaeed stood again, grabbing Vido's right foot in one hand and placing his booted foot on his knee.

"N-No, Zaeed," he stammered out between whimpering cries of pain, "I-I'll give it all back; you can take the Suns, take whatever you want, just please, **please**!"

"I don't need you to give me anything, Vido," Zaeed said calmly, staring the other man in the eye. "I'm taking it by force." He heaved his weight, and the leg snapped, causing Vido to howl once more. He repeated the process with the other leg, this time earning only the slightest of screams, and turned away, leaving Vido a crumpled heap on the floor. He grabbed a nearby liquid fuel canister and returned to Vido, pouring it over his body and the ground around him.

"Z-Zaeed, no! Please, please, I'll give you anything, you hear me? Anything!" Zaeed continued silently pouring the liquid, tossing away the canister when he'd finished. He reached down, taking his old weapon from where Vido had dropped it and checking the thermal clip. It was tasked to capacity, Vido had fired everything the pistol had at him. Below him, Vido panicked at his silence, now screaming with desperation. "Zaeed? Zaeed! Just tell me, what do you want? What do you want?"

Zaeed looked down at Vido, this man he'd hunted for so long, now broken at his feet. A grim satisfaction welled inside him; it was all over, now. "I want you to burn, you son of a bitch." He ejected the thermal clip, letting it drop into the fuel beside Vido, and a roaring inferno rushed to overtake the man, whose screams followed Zaeed as he walked back towards the house, the reflections of the dancing flames playing on the glass doors as he approached. He placed a hand on them, watching the reflection and waiting until Vido stopped howling, stopped rolling in desperation, and then left.

* * *

John vaulted over the low wall, crashing feet-first into one of the mercenaries even as he raised the rifle to dispatch another. Slamming a foot down, he crushed the man's trachea, leaving him gasping for air and rolling away in pain before Garrus's rifle found him. "Clear," he yelled.

"Here, too," Garrus replied, stepping around a dais that held a small statuette of a primitive turian ship. He made a small noise of disappointment as he examined three bullet-holes that now marred its surface, then crossed the room to meet Kasumi in the middle.

She stood silently and began stalking across the room in a determined fashion towards Garrus as John entered the central area of the vault. The turian dropped his rifle as she approached, and when she closed she threw her arms around his neck. He embraced her as well, and John arched an eyebrow before turning away to look at the many artifacts around the room. One pedestal in particular caught his attention, and he delicately lifted the small stone tablet off of its surface. He wasn't a linguistics expert, far from it, but he'd seen Tali read her omni-tool enough times to recognize Khelish when he saw it. Pocketing the tablet carefully, he turned back to the others, who were speaking quietly as he approached. "Ready to head out?"

"Definitely," Kasumi replied, holding up a small device John assumed was the graybox. He nodded, then followed Garrus over to the statue of Saren to retrieve their gear. As they finished suiting up, an explosion rung out above them, enough to shake the building's foundation and cause John to grab the statue for support.

"Zaeed!" he called into the comm device. A moment later the mercenary's voice came through after a fit of coughing.

"Sorry, Shepard. Went a little overboard on Vido. Now the whole goddamn house is catching fire. We should probably get the hell out of here."

"We're on our way up," John replied, signaling the others and rushing towards the lift. As it began their ascent, John breathed a sigh. "So, do you know how to access that thing?"

"I think so," she replied quietly, looking it over in her hands. "It should have an uplink that I ca—" the lift door opened and a jet of flame roared past where the security room met the main corridor.

"Shit," Garrus breathed, peeking out around the corner before motioning them after. The ran along the corridor, tracing their way back to the main gathering area as around them priceless works of art, books, tapestries, and furniture roared ablaze. Zaeed stood by the doors, waving frantically at them, and they rushed towards him, exiting as a group in a plume of smoke.

John coughed along with the others for a moment, then began to walk away from the house. He glanced to Zaeed with a questioning look, and the man simply shook his head in reply. "Yea, I got him. How the hell was I to know that private dock was directly linked to the house's fuel supply. I was in the main room when it happened, fire just erupting out of the walls. It was one of the craziest goddamn things I've ever seen."

John nodded. "Well at least you got him and we all got out. Kasumi here got what sh—Kasumi?" He looked around for her, and found her back by the front doors, holding out her omni-tool and watching it intently. Garrus moved to go back, but John put a hand on his chest. "You and Zaeed grab a shuttle, we need to get out of here before whatever other 'private security' Hock has shows up." After a moment the turian nodded, and Zaeed joined him in jogging back towards the main hangar. John walked back towards Kasumi, who seemed to not even notice his approach, and as he circled around to look over her shoulder, he saw why.

Her omni-tool displayed a live video feed, probably acquired when she hacked into Hock's security systems. On its display, Donovan Hock paced back and forth frantically in his bedroom as fire slowly engulfed it. He was trapped, cornered by fire, with only the window looking out over a thousand-foot drop to the ocean below. John cringed at the situation. The man was dead either way, he simply got to choose the manner. He glanced to Kasumi, whose eyes burned with hatred as she watched it play out, and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to watch this, Kasumi," he said quietly.

"Yes I do," she replied.

"It's not going to bring him back."

She pulled her eyes away from the display, fixating them on him for a moment. They brimmed with tears that he could see she was fighting to hold back, and when she closed her eyes with a sigh one rolled down her cheek. She opened them after a moment, looking back to the screen.

"I don't want it to bring him back. I want it to close the book on this whole thing." John nodded his head silently and looked back at the screen. Hock tried throwing blankets over the blaze to no avail, and after a moment of standing still, turned to open the window. Wind whipped at his clothes as he stepped out onto the ledge, clinging to the window frame for stability. It seemed as though he intended to stay there until the blaze died down, but the wind picked up again, and his footing slipped out from under him, sending him crashing into the hard surface of the windowsill, and then tumbling out into the open space, flailing as he fell to the ocean below. Kasumi watched for a few more moments the empty room being consumed by flames. " _Sayonara, Donovan-san,"_ she whispered almost inaudibly before closing the device and looking up to the sky. "Good Riddance."

A few minutes of silence later, the shuttle arrived, and as the two of them climbed aboard, John spared a glance back at the burning home, shaking his head at the waste before sliding the door shut. The shuttle tore off, and Shepard hailed Joker.

"This is Shepard, we're on our way back; both missions accomplished. Tell Chakwas we've got no casualties."

"Well, none of ours anyway," Zaeed chuckled.

* * *

"Dizziness, nausea, lack of appetite, loss of sex drive?" Mordin fired the questions off rapid-fire at Joker, who sat cradling his forehead in the palm of his hand as he shook it despondently.

"No, no, no, and…" John arched an eyebrow as the man glanced in his direction, then sighed with embarrassment, " **no** , okay? None of those symptoms; just this damned headache."

Mordin turned to John. "Headache normal side-effect of treatment administration within first few days. Will recover soon, no need to worry. Will continue to monitor progress and update you with results."

John nodded to both of them, then turned to leave Mordin's medical bay. He was happy that Joker was taking his first dose of the treatment well, but truth be told he was happier for the fact that he wouldn't have to unshackle EDI. He felt conflicted about the situation, and he tried to not let past experiences with other AI cloud his judgment of her, but it was difficult at times.

John made his way toward the lift, hoping to go down to Engineering and say hello to Tali, but as it descended, it stopped on floor three, and the doors slid open. To John's surprise, Thane stood outlined against the rest of Deck Three, and he nodded as he recognized the man.

"Shepard," Thane's distinct voice began, "I…need to speak with you. It's a matter of urgency, I'm afraid."

Thane hardly left the Life Support room, much less asked favors, and so John's curiosity was piques enough to tempt him to follow the drell back to his room, where he took a seat at the table across from Thane.

"What do you need to talk to me about, Thane?" he began slowly.

Thane stood with his arms crossed behind his back, staring out into the Normandy's drive core. "It…is about my family."

* * *

Ken leaned against the railing to his right with a heavy sigh before checking his chrono again. It read out _3:16am_ , and he stifled a laugh. Why was he so concerned with time out here in space? There was no planet by which to gauge the passage of time, and the last time he'd been on Earth had been…over a decade ago, he imagined. Still, he decided after a moment of thought, there must be some mental security provided by something so simple as merely knowing the time back home that he didn't want to be without.

Stretching his arms behind his back, he checked the core readouts again; minor fluctuations, par for the course. He opened his omni-tool to play Skyllian Five while he waited, but as soon as he did the New Message indicator popped up. Curious, he accessed it, and read the wide-net message it contained with mounting unease.

_"Brothers and Sisters,_

_Some of you yet remain unconvinced. You toil to appease your weakened master in spite of all I have told you. I have warned you of a great divide coming to our family, and I beseech you yet again to ensure you are on the right side when it comes. Without Cerberus, the galaxy falls to the hands of alien persecutors. Without Cerberus, humanity will ever after be treated as a second-class species. Do you feel that a Council seat ensures our stability in the galaxy?_

_Cerberus was not founded to make peace with alien races, it was founded to put them in their rightful place; beneath our heels. You who strive to serve the Illusive Man have either been deceived for too long that you can no longer separate fact from fiction, or are willingly weakening, as he is; a testament to the dying organization we continue to promote._

_Soon I will cull this great family of ours. The true believers will be rewarded, the ineffective leader overthrown, and those who stand by him treated no differently than the alien scum he would place our organization into bed with. Think carefully on your choices, brothers and sisters, for my great reckoning is coming._

_The Voice of Truth_


	31. Lives Unlived (Part One)

***Author's Note***  
Here's part one of my next chapter. I wanted to wait and release it,  
but I've just landed a great salaried job which will let me write a lot  
more, and I'm working on getting settled in. On top of that, my girlfriend  
is moving in this weekend, so I'll have my hands full. Here's something to  
hopefully tide everyone over until I can get back to the computer around Monday.  
Enjoy!

* * *

 **Lives Unlived**  
Part One

_The first thing he notices is the smell. Not that aliens smell that differently than humans, though he supposed they probably should, but all the same it was the smell that first entered his brain. Smoke, sweat, alcohol, shame. He resists the instinctive urge to turn up his nose at the odor, but instead enters under the bright neon sign proclaiming the name of the establishment, Chora's Den, and immediately begins assessing the situation. It had been training, it had been his job, and it was now second nature. Single exit, circular room, multiple alcoves for cover ambush strike points. Fifteen patrons, twelve staff, one irritable bartender. Heavily guarded hallway to some sort of backroom facility; two krogan, prime fighting condition, minimal battle scarring: young mercenaries._

_He drinks up the scene in split-seconds, and after a moment zeroes in on his contact. The man has never given his name or a physical description, but Jacob knows he is the man who has contacted him; mainly because he is the only being in the bar staring directly at him while downing what is surely no less than his fifth glass of bourbon. Jacob crosses to the table, pulling out a chair and taking a seat across from the man, who eyes him warily. The two men sit in silence for a brief time before the older man clears his throat and speaks softly._

_"You know who I am?"_

_Jacob nods. "Of course, Admiral Kahoku"_

_"Good," The man replies, furtively casting hard stares around the pair of them. "Then I don't have to take the time to explain to you that what I'm about to say is of utmost importance to the Systems Alliance."_

_"This is concerning the organization you've written about?" Jacob leads._

_The other man nods. "Cerberus. There's something to the rumors, something to the reports, I'm sure of it." He stopped for a moment; taking a drink and setting it back down with a visible shake in his hand. "We thought it ended with the extranet message; some wack-job with a penchant for anti-alien rhetoric, but things are happening out there. Little things, almost not above notice, but I see them."_

_"With all due respect, sir," Jacob begins, "Cerberus isn't a noted terrorist organization. They haven't taken responsibility for any major acts or crimes, and are simply a known entity."_

_For the first time since walking in, Jacob sees the man laugh. It is a short, gruff sound, mirthless, and is over too soon. "You think the assassinations aren't them? You think the sabotages and thefts aren't them? The first step towards building an army is to get supplies, Seven." He stares into Asset Seven's eyes for another moment before reaching down, pulling a datapad out from underneath the table and sliding it across toward Jacob. "Then there's this."_

_Jacob takes the datapad and spins it around, seeing his own face and falsified service record gleaming back up at him. "Sir?"_

_"They're scouting you, Taylor." The man takes another drink, wiping a trace of it off of his chin with a thumb. "They've got your Alliance records, your time with the Corsairs, everything."_

_"So they've got nothing," Jacob replies as he browses through all of the falsified records of his actions. They had created an entire other life for him; an honorable life, one a man should be proud of. The second he'd entered the Blackwolf program, he'd ceased to see himself as a man, just a tool. Assassinations, sabotage, infiltration, torture…he'd done them all. The real Jacob Taylor is an entirely loathsome creature, and yet the one staring up at him from the datapad is as honorable as a man could be. The irony is not wasted on him._

_"They want to recruit you, Seven."_

_Jacob looked up from the datapad and nodded carefully. "And you want me to let them."_

The stars littered the black of space like salt spilled over a black tablecloth. Here a cluster, there a patch of nothingness, there one brighter than the rest. Jacob Taylor, Asset Seven, peered out the window and wondered not for the first time if this assignment would be the death of him. It had been almost three years. He'd risen quickly through the ranks, easy to do with the training he'd had, but even still there had been a handful of people even more brutal than him…thinking about the one man made his blood run cold for a moment before he shook off the memories. Leng had truly been the definition of a monster…

The sharp clicks of her heels on the deck brought him out of reminiscence and back to the here and now. Miranda Lawson was an unknown entity to him; he could never get a full read on her. They'd been close, and he'd told himself at first it was just to gather intelligence, but he'd gotten sloppy, gotten attached, and their figurative parting of ways had cut him deeper than he'd been cut in a long time. He wasn't sure how to take her now; it was a briar-patch of a situation.

"The Normandy isn't in-system yet," she said as she stopped beside him, "but I've received word that they're _en route_ , and should reach the Citadel in a few hours."

He nodded, and she turned to look out the window. The tension was palpable to him, and the words she wanted to say but couldn't almost radiated out of her expression. He took a deep breath, and said what he'd planned to say since she'd put her hand on his chest to stop him leaving hours ago.

"Blackwolf." He watched her head turn toward him out of his peripheral vision before continuing. "That was what they called it. It was black ops, intelligence gathering mostly, but not without occasional sabotage and wet works."

"Christ…" she breathed quietly.

"We were off the books, records falsified, including military credentials. It was the life I'd wanted for a long time, but eventually…" he trailed off, gazing out the window at the stars for a quiet moment. "I don't know, it just seemed like no matter how many missions we went on, nothing got done. I did things…things I'm not proud of, in the name of protecting the Alliance." He turned to her fully, holding up a finger. "But it only took one politician to make a back-room deal, one word from the brass, and all the work we'd spent months planning and carrying out would be swept under the rug. I felt like a tool that kept almost being used, but never to any real effect."

"So you left?"

He nodded. "Yea…but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. The credentials I showed were a local copy; this is the same omni-tool I've had since those days. Hell, it was a prototype then and its old tech today. The Alliance's standard agent-termination scripts haven't managed to break the firewall and erase it, so to someone as far removed from galactic civilization as the good Captain here…"

"You still show up as black ops," Miranda finished for him, nodding her head in approval.

"Yep."

"Well," she breathed quietly after a moment's contemplation, "that explains that." Jacob remained silent, and after a moment, she continued carefully. "What…made you decide to tell me?"

"You needed to know," he replied curtly. "You know, for your report." To his side, she let a small laugh out, and he slipped, his gaze catching hers out of the corner of his eye as she smiled.

"You really think I'm putting **that** in my report?" She let a moment hang between them, then continued. "If I report that, three things are sure to happen. First," she held up a finger, "I'll be chewed out if not terminated for failing so completely at your background investigation that I won't find work for a decade. Second," a second finger, "the Illusive Man will lose any confidence he had in the two of us to carry on with Cerberus' interests in this mission, and three," she let the last finger rise, pausing for a moment, "you'd never tell me another secret for as long as you lived."

She had softened her tone. Was it concern? Fear? Dare he hope it was affection? Either way, it had reached squarely into his chest and latched onto his heart. She could do that, he realized again, and not on purpose either. He turned his head to her, mustering all the disinterest he could throw in defense. "You're still interested in my secrets, are you?"

She stepped closer to him, and his blood pounded in his head. He tried to remember his training, keep his mind clear, but memories of secluded nights rushed forward and filled his head, refusing to let him think straight. "I am…" she all but whispered to him, standing so close and yet out of reach, her arms folded nervously as she met his gaze. "And I think you still have a few left in you for me to learn before the end."

On instinct, he closed the distance between them, his hand coming up to rest on her hip. She shied away at the touch at first, then relaxed, still unsure, but not scared away. "Miranda…I don't…" He tried to think, tried to formulate any kind of sentence, and words failed him again. "

"No," she filled in the gap. "It was me, I don—"

"Sir?" Jacob jumped slightly, and cursed himself for it. When he turned, the look he gave the young ensign who'd interrupted them could have torn the bulkhead in half. The man swallowed hard before continuing. "T-The captain wanted me to inform you we'll be docking with the Citadel in twenty minutes." Jacob said nothing, just continued to stare at him until he stammered an apology and scuttled off. When he turned back to say something, she was already walking away, the sharp _click_ of her heels escaping swiftly up the corridor, much faster than she'd come.

He sighed, turning back to look out the viewport again with mounting frustration. He could travel the galaxy, fight any enemy, and achieve outrageous tasks, but he would never be able to stop himself feeling a child again around her.

* * *

"So tell me, James," the Illusive Man began calmly, pouring himself another tumbler of whisky, "When a man as…determined…as yourself leads a team of the finest cryptographers and cyberhackers humanity has to offer, is given an extraordinary amount of resources and confidence, and the galaxy's finest shackled AI system…" He trailed off as he stared at the man standing yards away, gripping the datapad in his hand as if it were his only rock in a storm, and took a sip from the glass before putting it down and resting his arms once more. "How is it that man can still fail so utterly and completely?"

Kashon brimmed with anger. "Sir, even the AI agrees; the hacker is a g—"

"Hackers are," he corrected, taking another sip. "This kind of operation, intrusions this fast and this untraceable, it isn't one timid little salarian in some hole on Omega. This is a group, Kashon. They're trying to undermine my authority and your continued incompetence is allowed them to do just that."

"Sir, I assure you, I have every analyst working around the cl—"

"I'm well aware of that, James," he interrupted again, leaving Kashon furiously sputtering the rest of his sentence. "If I'd thought for a second you weren't giving this your full attention, you'd have been killed long ago." The man instantly tightened up, and the Illusive Man had to do his best to keep a satisfied smirk from his lips. He allowed the silence to linger between them, lighting a cigarette and breathing the words out along with the smoke. "My patience is wearing thin, James. Find me these hackers, and send Kai Leng after them, or I'll replace you with someone who can." The man's eyes went wide, and he nodded furiously, muttering a " _Yes, sir._ " as he hurriedly left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind him, the Illusive Man let out a sigh. This issue with the "Voice of Truth" nagged at him constantly, and yet it didn't worry him. For all their cryptic messages and grand schemes, not a single one of his operations had encountered any kind of significant hang-ups since this character had come along. His top people were in the best programs he had, and he felt secure even despite their inexplicable ability to hack into his systems. Unconsciously, he glanced to the small chip in the arm of his chair. It, at least, was completely inaccessible, and contained the most important secrets he had. None even knew of its existence save for himself, and he intended to keep it that way.

Flipping through his requisitions earned another sigh and a large gulp from his glass. When Kashon wasn't screaming at his people about the hackers, he was pestering the Illusive Man about Project Ascendency. Yet every time he came back to look at the grand plans he'd made long ago, he saw more and more wrong with it. He certainly didn't pander to aliens; he had a reputation and a position in this galaxy as humanity's bastion. Still…a part of him balked at some of the things he'd planned in older days. The indecision had caused him to shelve the project, but Kashon wouldn't let it rest. He had been certain lately that whoever the Voice of Truth was, they would likely have some sort of fighting force, even though every contact the Illusive Man had reported no increase in black market arms dealings. No evidence to support Kashon's claims, and yet he still gave the man his attention…

Swiping away the requisition perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he should have, he checked the next item on his list: Mnemosyne. The silhouette of the millennia-dead reaper hung still in orbit around the star, a silent vigil to an ancient evil. He hadn't heard from his team, and while he knew exactly why, he would wait for the emergency failsafe to transmit their data logs before risking Shepard and his te-. Blinding pain slammed into the front of his skull, and a corona of red and orange enveloped everything in his vision. A thousand nails on a thousand sheets of metal raked out in his mind, and he vaguely heard the sound of shattering glass as his tumbler fell to the ground.

 _"Submit…"_ the voice was louder than it had been, a sickening oil slick across the surface of his brain. It seeped into him, burning the whole while, and he tried to scream without success. Unconsciously, his eyes found the reaper on the screen in front of him. He knew his enemy, he knew what had to be done to defeat them, and he knew he had to make it to that day. He needed to hold on. He pushed against the voice with all his will, and after a struggle that felt a lifetime, it snapped away, the colors and images of reality crashing back around him.

He slumped in his chair, then fell out of it, crashing to the floor in a crumpled heap. Screams of pain remembered crossed his lips, though he made no sound. Tears streamed from his eyes, though he did not cry. A thousand years of torment he'd endured in a matter of seconds…

And it would only get worse.

* * *

The feather meant more dancing between her ungloved fingers. It always did. It rolled across the backs of her bruised knuckles, glided across her unpainted fingernails, and fluttered across the small burns on her palms as she moved it from hand to hand. In front of her, through the large viewport, the light from a thousand stars burned in testament to the great infinity of the universe, and yet the feather grounded her, pulled her all the way back to Tokyo, and her grandmother's rooftop garden.

The door whisked open, and she snatched the feather out of the air, tucking it between the pages of the book she'd been trying to read and closing it delicately. She didn't need to look to know who it was, she knew he would come. In some ways she'd wanted it.

"How are you holding up?" He asked quietly, stepping into the room with her unspoken consent.

She sighed, placing the book back onto the shelf before meeting his gaze. "It's done. It's…over."

He nodded knowingly. "It's not how you wanted it to be."

"Of course it isn't," she said, with a little more venom than she'd intended, and he held up his taloned hands in mock surrender.

"Didn't mean it like that." He paused briefly, thinking about what he wanted to say, then continued with more care than she'd heard cross the air between them since they'd met. "It wasn't going to bring him back; or make the pain of losing him any easier."

She broke away from his gaze, staring out the window and pushing back the tears she'd beaten four times already today as they tried once again to overtake her. She had loved him, once. He had loved her in return. That life was now over, and if she were honest with herself it had been over for a long while. She missed Keiji, but that didn't change how she felt about Garrus.

"I knew it wouldn't but…"

"You hoped to every spirit and god there was that it would," he finished for her. She nodded, closing her eyes against the pain. She felt pressure on her shoulders, then, three points on each as he squeezed them, standing behind her. Before she could decide whether to voice approval or protest, he continued. "For whatever it's worth, I'm here..."

Her eyes opened, staring straight out into the black, and her right hand came up to rest on his as he held her shoulder. She squeezed it tightly, a pressure he passed on to her shoulder, and for a moment she sat comforted by just his presence. Then he was gone, their unspoken agreement made, the door quietly closing behind him. Seconds turned to minutes, turned to hours, and as her eyes closed again, she inhaled deeply, and breathed out the past.


	32. Lives Unlived (Part Two)

***Author's Note***  
October: 626 Unique Visitors  
September: 1,416 Unique Visitors  
August: 1,103 Unique Visitors

I last updated in July, and those numbers, while some may be repeats, they  
inform me that I need to apologize personally to just over three thousand  
people who came looking for an update and were disappointed. To give you  
a brief update, I've moved into a full-on house, landed a great programming  
job, and my girlfriend has settled in, so everything is finally quieting down.  
Scheduling time to write hasn't been easy, but I've set aside Sunday as my official  
writing day. I'll probably write a little during the weekdays, and if I finish a chapter  
early I will of course put it out, but you can expect Sundays to be my update days  
from here on out.

Again, I'm very sorry for the huge delay. I still love the story, and will still finish it.  
If you're all still up for being on this crazy journey, then so am I. Expect another  
chapter up on or before Sunday. :)

As always, thank you so much for all the reviews, private messages, and other  
contact, especially the stuff I got while on an involuntary hiatus, and enjoy the  
chapter!

* * *

 **Lives Unlived  
** Part Two

"Of **course** it's uncomfortable, bug eyes!" Joker's tone brought the light conversation between the three men in the med bay to a screeching halt. John, until just this moment standing in a relaxed position, arms folded as he regarded the others, now slowly stood to full height, eyeing his pilot warily. Mordin seemed unfased, standing in front of the man holding the syringe he'd just extracted from his arm. For his part, Joker seemed to have immediately realized what he'd said, as he spoke again before either of them had a chance. "I-I'm sorry, Mordin…Don't really know what happened right there…"

Mordin shook his head briefly before turning back to his lab table. "No offense taken. Treatment affecting your system in many ways; mostly beneficial, some adversely."

"'Adversely' is putting it lightly," Joker muttered.

"Indeed," Mordin replied. "Unprovoked hostility not only dismissed out of hand, but expected." The salarian paused to look over his shoulder with a small smirk. "Would be much more concerned if no symptoms presented themselves."

Despite the treatment and his crumbling mood, Joker chuckled, leaning forward off the table and rolling his shirt sleeve back down. "Need anything else from me?"

Mordin shook his head. "No, have everything I need here."

Joker turned to leave, nodding at John who returned the gesture. The doors opened at the pilot's touch on the holographic keypad, and John smiled to himself as he saw the shadowed figure of Lia'Vael leaning against the bulkhead waiting for him. The doors closed as she took his arm in her hands, and John turned back to Mordin. "How is he handling it?"

The salarian took a trademark deep breath, but instead of bursting into long-winded and multi-pronged sentence structures, he merely stepped back from the lab table with a sigh. "Better than expected, worse than hoped."

"Should we take him off of it?"

The doctor shrugged. "His choice. Personally, would recommend continuing treatment regimen. Osteoblast counts increasing slowly but markedly, bone strength gradually increasing; evidenced in repeat test trials."

"So then he's in the clear?"

"Not exactly." Mordin turned to regard John fully. "Dosage being given now ten times less than maximum dosage. Increasing percentages of foreign bodies in treatment required for continued cellular stimulation."

"So you're going to keep upping the dosage…" he paused for a moment, "…which means the side effects will be worse."

Mordin simply nodded. "One hundred percent of theorized trials suggest the same."

John let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. After a moment, he nodded and made to leave. "I trust your judgment, Mordin."

The salarian seemed to stand taller. "Honored to hear you say it, Shepard. Still…Joker not chief concern for ship's safety."

"Oh?" John stopped in his tracks.

Mordin grabbed a nearby datapad and closed the distance between them. He fired up the device, which displayed a krogan body in suspended holographic animation. "Was paid...interesting...visit by Grunt earlier…"

* * *

The low hum of the Thanix cannon's power core kept the room from being completely quiet, but even with its consistent white noise, Garrus could hardly feel at peace. He stood at its terminal, trying time and again to convince himself his numbers were off; that no matter how stable the readout told him the cannon was, there were more diagnostics that could be run. He hung his head, letting a long breath seep out of him as he thought about her again. She seemed to preoccupy his thoughts, and it wasn't necessarily a problem he disliked having. After all, seeing her pinned down under fire in Hock's vault had stirred up something...primal...in him. He'd practically ripped those mercenaries' heads off with his bare hands.

He shook his head. She ran his mind in circles, but right now he knew she needed space. And he needed to focus more on the mission at hand. He turned away from the terminal, firing up his omni-tool and staring into its orange interface to see if his daily readout from Engineering had come in. What sat in his inbox in its place made his eyes widen.

" _Citadel, Warehouse district, Lot 1472_

_-Barla Von"_

His jaw clenched, harsh teeth rubbing against each other. His first instinct was to, of course, delete it and put it out of his mind. After all, he thought, Barla Von never gave out information unless you paid him handsomely. On the other hand, if Von had information that could lead him to Sidonis...

He closed the omni-tool, looking behind him instinctively to the door he knew would be closed, before turning back to the console. He tried to put it out of his mind, focus on the cannon, but it wasn't happening.

He slammed his fists down on the console, then immediately turned to leave the battery. He crossed quickly to the lift, ignoring the greetings of the crew, and punched the indicator for Deck One. Whether Von had information on Sidonis or not, Garrus wanted Shepard at his side.

* * *

"So it's true, then." Wrex's booming voice took on a gravitas Shepard had seldom heard from the krogan as he spoke through the Normandy's comm terminal on Deck One. "The great Shepard, back from the dead."

"Gave it a shot," John replied, "it wasn't all it was cracked up to be."

The krogan's gruff laughter emitted from his omni-tool. "Spoken like a true warrior, Shepard. We'll have to sit together sometime and you can tell me how it feels to have the life leave your body."

"I'd prefer that time be sooner rather than later, Wrex, if it's all the same to you." John reached over to his terminal, pulling up the data on Grunt that Mordin had transferred to him in the med bay. "Did you get the files I sent across?"

"Yea, I've got them right here. Not that I need them, Shepard; I can already tell you what's happening to my tank-bred replacement. He's ready for the Rite."

"The Rite?"

"He's coming of age, Shepard. Normally a krogan his age takes the Rite and proves his worth to his clan. That's what's causing his bloodrage. A krogan needs two things in life: enemies to strike, and purpose of strength. I'm sure you can give him plenty of enemies, Shepard, but only a clan can give him purpose."

A long pause hung between them, and John finally spoke up. "Seems there's something that might stand in the way of that."

"Many somethings," Wrex replied. Another pause followed, and Wrex spoke again. "I owe you a debt, Shepard. Bring your whelp to Tuchanka; we'll talk. I want to see him...and you...for myself. If you're still as good as I remember, I could use your help again."

John nodded. "I understand. We're docked at the Citadel right now, but as soon as-" The door to his cabin slid open with a _hiss_ , and Garrus strode into the room, not seeming to notice John was on an open link as he spoke.

"I think he's here, Shepard. I think he's here on the Citadel." Their eyes met, and Garrus put two and two together with a muffled _"Sorry"_ , and John turned back to the omni-tool.

"We've got something to handle here, but I'll let you know when we're leaving, we'll set course right for Tuchanka."

"Fight well, Shepard. I'll be waiting for your call."

John shut the comm link down, and Garrus pointed to it in silent disbelief. After a moment, he spoke up. "So...Wrex?"

"The one and only," John smiled, slipping the omni-tool armband back over his wrist and onto his forearm. "I know you'll be dying to see him again."

Garrus let out a soft laugh. "I think if I'm lucky I'll die **before** I see him again."

John shook his head. "So, what makes you think he's here; and how do we catch the bastard?"

* * *

"So what exactly are we expecting?" Tali asked as she slid the thermal clip into her pistol. It snapped in with a satisfying _click_ , and she holstered it at the small of her back. For a moment John's eyes followed the curve of her hips upwards, across her chest and up to her shoulders, his mind wandering for a moment. She caught his eyes with hers, and for a moment he wondered if she had noticed him. She took a step closer, holding his gaze, and there was no longer any doubt. She pressed herself against him, and he let his arms wrap around her, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine down her suit. She shivered, then asked again in a whisper. "So...what **exactly** are we expecting...John?"

"Well..." he began unsteadily, the great Commander Shepard completely losing his composure to this one woman who could bring him to his knees. "Ah, let's see. We'll have to deal with C-Sec about the whole 'me being dead' thing..." She nodded slowly, massaging the back of his neck with her fingers as he struggled to continue. "Um, we'll be meeting a shady information broker with no known ties in an even shadier part of town, so that's a complete wildcard..." He embraced her tightly, earning a contented sigh from her, and pressed his lips to her _realk_. "So, dangerous situations, untrustworthy people, and possible firefights."

"The usual, then." She replied, the metallic tinge on her voice accentuated her amused tone.

"Yea," he replied, smiling down into those almond-shaped glowing eyes. "The usual."

She stepped away to finish grabbing her gear, but her eyes lingered on him for a moment, and it made him smile all the more. After a long second, he looked back to his own gear, in time for the Armory doors to open. Garrus walked through alone, and John raised an eyebrow at him, the unasked question hanging in the air.

"No," the turian replied instantly. "She needs time, I'm not going to ask her to do this."

John felt Tali's confused gaze on him, but simply nodded. "It's your decision, Garrus. The four of us should be able to handle it."

"Four?" Garrus asked as he picked up his sniper rifle from the nearby workbench.

"If it's a concern, I'm happy to go alone." The raspy voice came from the hallway, and Garrus's head snapped up to see Thane standing ready and waiting. "Again, Shepard, I appreciate your offer to help, but it isn't necessary to ensure my commitment to the mission. I've already accepted the contract, and I don't renege on my work."

"I understand that, Thane," John replied, snapping the last thermal clip into place, "but you're on my crew. We don't go it alone when we've got friends willing to back us up."

The drell folded his arms, leaning slightly against the bulkhead, and was silent for a moment before nodding once. "Then I will meet you by the airlock. And...thank you, Shepard. You as well," he added, nodding to Tali and Garrus, who returned the gesture. Then he turned and was gone, a shadow up the corridor.

"What's that about?" Garrus asked when he had gone.

"It's personal," John replied, remembering the conversation he'd had with the man in which the drell had almost come to tears. A son, his mother murdered, growing up around strangers, never knowing his parents...Mindoir tried to force its way into his mind again, and he shoved it out. A kid should never have to grow up without a family.

"What?" Garrus asked, and John realized he'd mumbled his last thought aloud. After a moment, he shook his head.

"Nothing. Thane's on our crew; we do right by him." The others nodded, and together they made for the airlock.

" _Frigate Normandy, you're cleared for Dock 0614, port side."_ The accented voice emitted into the cabin as John, Garrus, and Tali approached. Joker sat in the pilot's seat, his hands flying over the haptic interface as though he weren't in contstant pain. Next to him, Lia did the same, managing the comm link between their ship and the Citadel control tower.

"Copy that, control," Joker replied, and the link dissipated. Through the front viewport, John could see the Citadel looming before them, and their dock fast approaching. After a moment, The two connected, and the _hiss_ of depresurization came from the airlock. Seconds later, the bulkhead opened onto the dock of the Citadel. "You're all set, Commander," the pilot called out. "Bring me back a postcard?"

"No way, Joker," John shot back as they stepped out onto the metal walkway. "You'll just lose it like the last one."

The cold air of the Citadel docks greeted John as he left the Normandy, and the four of them walked together toward the main receiving area.

"Fancy new tech," Garrus mumbled. "Don't remember it being this complicated."

"It wasn't," Thane replied. "I have visited the Citadel a number of times since the geth attack, and each time more systems are put into place." They stepped through the doorway into a main reception area, teeming with people going to or coming from their docked vessels.

"Seems like they've got it pretty locked down well," Tali remarked as she looked over the systems in place.

"Yes," the drell replied, "though I still see no less than sixteen points of failure a skill assassin could use to infiltrate."

"Sixteen?" she replied. "I had only gotten up to four..."

Thane smiled, turning to her as they approached the customs desk. "Keep looking; I am sure you will find them." He turned to John, then. "Shepard, I need to speak to a few contacts I have here; I will alert you when I find something." John nodded, and the man separated from them, weaving through the crowd like a fish through water.

"Next," the attendand at the security station called, and John stepped into it, sighing as he prepared another long lecture about how no, in fact, he was not dead but actually alive and, could you believe it, standing right in front of y- "Alright, sir. You're cleared." John's mind snapped back to the present, and he turned to the man in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're clear, sir. Spectre authorization. I won't get in your way."

"Ah. Right, thanks," John stepped forward, allowing a laughing Tali to step into the place he had occupied. He shook his head at her, and turned to enter the Citadel once more.

* * *

Thane stepped into the small home in the Wards, if it could be called that. The place was a hovel, datapads and clothes strewn all across the floor. The vidscreen had been left on, a news program softly playing into the otherwise silent room. Crossing it even quieter, Thane stood next to the bed, looking down at its single occupant. He had grown since childhood, though they always did, and his once close-cut red hair spilled down to his shoulders, tangled and unkempt.

"Mouse."

The boy jolted awake, reaching under the pillow next to him and pulling out a Carnifex pistol. Thane didn't move a muscle, just stood and watched Mouse react.

"Who the f- wha? K-Krios? Is that you?"

"Indeed, Mouse."

"Holy shit, man! We all thought you were dead or something, I mean...you hear things, you know?" He dropped the weapon, turning to get off the bed and pull on his clothes as he continued. "I mean I told the other guys, I said, 'there's no way Krios is gone, he's the best there is!' But you know how kids are, I mean with stories and exaggerations and...shit man, you're really back!"

Thane couldn't help but chuckle; he was still the same Mouse.

"Yes, though this time, I was hoping you could help me, Mouse."

"Oh yea man, absolutely, anything at all. I owe you big time, man! Name it and it's yours. Though I mean you'll probably want to wait until after for us to get stuff done, right?"

"After?" he asked.

"Yea, after," Mouse replied, pulling on his shirt. He caught the confused look on Thane's face, and one of his own began to grow on his. "You know... **after**..."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mouse."

"Wait you mean...he didn't tell you? He...he didn't message you?" A brief pause hung between them, and Thane shook his head. "Oh shit, okay umm, just forget I said anything, okay? I didn't talk to you, you didn't talk to me, I didn't talk to Ko—ah, him. Everything's cool, right? It's all good. Hey, how the hell have you been, man? What have you been up to?"

"Mouse," Thane said sharply, stepping towards the boy. "You've spoken with Kolyat?"

"No! What? No, no way, Krios. I don't even...I mean who..." he looked around furtively, fidgeting. "I mean yea once or twice; guy keeps to himself, you know? Just like you..." He trailed off, then met Thane's eyes and warily contined. "About a week ago he comes in and says he's got his first job...a real job for this syndicate. He...he said he was following in your footsteps, and when I asked he said he'd sent you a message to let you know."

Thane turned away, looking out the only window in the place, out onto the crowded streets of the Wards. "You thought I had come to congratulate him."

"Well I mean yea, Krios...why else would you be here?"

Thane turned back to the boy. "To stop him."

Mouse shifted uncomfortably. "I...I don't really understand, Krios."

"You don't have to, just tell me what you know about the job." The boy shook his head with uncertainty, shifting where he stood.

"Wh-what do you need to know?"

"Everything."

* * *

They walked down the rows of warehouse lanes, each giving rise to some monstrous building shilhoutted against the space between each of the Citadel's gigantic arms. These areas of the Wards were less cared for, and it showed. John had to restrain himself from holding his pistol grip as they walked; these streets could have passed for something straight out of Omega.

"This is it," Garrus said softly, stopping in front of a nondescript door bearing the number 1472. He turned around, and John nodded, taking a hold of his pistol. Garrus pushed the door open, and the trio stepped inside.

The warehouse was dark and dank. Machinery, clearly untouched for a long while, sat idle around them and covered in dust. Shadows danced off of the walls from the light outside as they moved through the building, and as they stopped in the middle, a familiar volus voice came over the announcement system.

" _Mr. Vakarian, I'm glad you came."_

"You know why I'm here, Barla," Garrus called out to the air. "Tell me what I want to know."

" _Believe me, Garrus, when I tell you what I know, you'll be happy to hear it. In fact, I would love to hand you the datapad in person, but I'm having a bit of a security problem at the moment. A problem that has forced me to hide inside my own safehouse; a problem I think we share."_

"The Suns..." Garrus growled. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tali opening her omni-tool and tapping away at the interface.

" _Exactly, Mr. Vakarian. The Blue Suns have been a problem for me lately, but as you know, my information has a price..."_

"You want me to **pay** you to fix a problem for you?" Garrus yelled in outrage. Tali snapped her omni-tool closed and moved forwared past Garrus with a muffled "Excuse me," and stood in front of a large factory line machine housing. It had clearly been used to make some sort of hovercar, but the internal workings that the housing enclosed had likely been out of commission for years.

" _Of course I do. I'd love to be able to escape the Citadel on a personal shuttle, but I'll take your credits and buy a seat on a commercial vessel if I have to. Either way, I'm broadcasting from a remote location, so unless you pay me what I ask, you'll never kn-"_ Tali's fingers, searching over the housing, found the latch, and the large panel door slid aside to reveal Barla Von seated in front of a hidden terminal. Garrus and John stepped over, and the three of them locked eyes with the information dealer.

"Ah, yes, well..." he began, caught off guard. "Perhaps we can come to some sort of lesser arrange—ah!"

Garrus reached in and grabbed the volus by the throat, pulling him out of the machine housing and slamming him down on the nearest conveyor belt, pinning the rotund alien to it with his vice grip. The volus struggled to move, and John cried out in protest, but the words were lost on Garrus, who put his face inches away from Barla's and growled. "Tell me what I want to know, and I let you live. Does that sound like a fair deal to you?"

"Garrus!" the volus hissed through a clenched throat, "I don't know where your man is, I swear! But I have a way you can find out! We can help each other!" After a moment, Garrus relented, stepping away from the volus, who rubbed at his throat before swinging his legs over the side of the conveyor belt and shaking his head. "I am sorry for the deception," he began, "but I am at a loss for what to do for the first time in three decades."

"Why don't you start from the beginning," John began. "What happened?"

The volus looked out the nearby window almost in clandestine paranoia before turning back to the trio. "It happened two weeks ago. I was preparing to meet a contact in the Wards who was promising valuable information in exchange for a berth off of the Citadel. I had loaded my omni-tool data and was preparing to leave when I heard gunfire erupting from the front of my office. Seconds later they stormed into the room, Blue Suns mercenaries, assault rifles and specialized shielding."

"What did they want?" Tali asked.

"Information, my talented young friend," he replied. "And not specific information; all of it. They crashed my data servers, stole my files, and had one of their tech experts, a salarian," he spat the race, "upload a virus to my network that destroyed all of my backup data sites as well." He hung his head, seething as he continued the story.

"They told me not to try returning to the information brokering field, or they'd have me killed. They said the Suns were taking over the trade on the Citadel; that they would succeed here where they failed on Omega because of the damned turian." He raised his eyes to meet Garrus's, whose expresion softened a moment as he realized what the volus would say next. "I helped you hide, Garrus," he continued in a humble tone. "You think people didn't ask if I knew where Garrus Vakarian, hero of the Citadel, had disappeared to?"

"Why didn't you tell them?"

"Because I'm a professional! Because my clan honors its word! And because the last thing I do to people who destroy my life's work is offer to help them!" A silence hung between them then, an uncomfortable understanding of each other, and Garrus spoke up.

"What can we do?"

The volus sighed heavily, shaking his head again. "The Suns have my files in their makeshift base. They didn't tell me where it was but when they were ransacking my office, but C-Sec knows."

"What makes you think that?" John asked.

"I don't think it, I know it, Shepard," the volus hissed. "After the break-in I spoke to a sergeant in the ranks, Bailey. He said it was the fifth action against 'legitimate businessmen' that the Suns had made this month. I asked him what he planned to do, and he said nothing at present, but C-Sec would look into any solution. When he turned away, however, I noticed his omni-tool was blank."

"The Suns are bribing them, then?" John asked.

"It would seem, and with my own money, no less. I meant it when I said the Suns took everything." He paused for a moment, then looked to Garrus. "I read what happened on Omega, the official report and the Suns personal channels. It's usually bad business to pick a side in a firefight, but if you have any chance of finding the one who betrayed you, it will be in their databanks."

"Sounds like we should pay the good captain a visit," Garrus said, nodding to the volus.

He sighed again with a light laugh. "Here you are, the heroes of the Citadel, and you're running errands for an angry volus hiding in a run-down warehouse."

John put a hand on the alien's shoulder. "It won't stay that way, I promise."

* * *

"Sir, the krogan are demanding to see a representative."

"Yea, well then I guess they shouldn't have **demanded** that weapons shop hand over all their wares, wouldn't you say, officer Thompson?" Bailey shook his head as the man walked away, hands up in mock surrender. It had been a shit day; a shit week if he were being honest with himself. The Suns were up to something, and he was sure Chief of Police Stricktern was in on it, but he couldn't prove anything. Hell, he couldn't **say** anything lest he risk his job, or his life, whichever seemed more important in the given moment.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and pressing his palms into his eyes. There had been a man once who'd told his superiors when they were wrong. He'd sought out evidence of the crimes of his betters, and brought them down to justice without fear of reprisal. If only there were more people like-"

"Excuse me, Captain Bailey?" The man's voice called Bailey back to the present.

"Yea, what do you w-" It was him. How could it not be? "Holy shit, you're Commander Shepard."

The man smiled, "I've been told."

"Well ah...welcome to my precinct. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk about a report filed by a friend of mine, a volus named Barla Von."

"Sure, I know him. Owns a brokering firm up near the Presidium. I was there a couple weeks ago looking into a break-in."

"Right. He seems...unconvinced that you're looking into it."

Bailey grimaced. Quickly, he glanced around them, then shook his head. "It's too crowded out here, follow me." He got up and led the three of them to an interrogation room, reaching behind a wall panel to make sure they weren't being recorded. Once the door was closed, he exhaled a large sigh. "I know it was the Suns that did it, and I know where they are, but I can't touch them."

"Why not?" Tali asked.

"Orders from the top, official and non-negotiable. We're not to take any action against suspected or confirmed Blue Suns activity in the Wards or Presidium."

"No, that's a completely legitimate order," Garrus mocked.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do, but the truth is obvious. After Saren attacked the Citadel, the politicians and bureaucrats had to turn somewhere to get the funds to rebuild the damaged areas of the station. Most of that funding for the less-traveled areas of the Citadel have come from, shall we say, less than legal sources. Any politician who wants to win a representative seat in the Wards runs on a platform of continuing the rebuilding effort, if not redoubling it."

"And they get that money from the local gangs, who they agree to not come after as long as they're funding the rebuild." John finished.

Bailey nodded. "It's a match made in hell, all right. Even seeped out of the political game and into C-Sec territory. Its a pretty well-known fact that our own Chief of Police is taking kickbacks from these gangs, especially the Suns, in order to keep them out of our databanks."

"Why hasn't anyone tried to remove him from office, then?" asked Tali.

Bailey snorted a laugh. "Hell, we're not all Commander Shepard, here, ma'am. No one will touch that case because it means the end of your career, if not your life. I've had two officers go missing already after talking about doing something about it. The force is divided, and anyone who tries to mend it either winds up missing, or is paid to keep quiet if they rank high enough."

"What if I offered to help you?"

Bailey thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Look, Shepard, no one wants things to change around here more than I do, but the last thing I need is to end up dead before I've had a chance to make a move. I can tell you where the Suns are, but I can't give you C-Sec support."

John took a step closer to the man. "You won't get a shot like this, Bailey, I guarantee it. I'm going into that Suns base for different reasons, but if I find incriminating data, can I count on you to stand with me and use it?"

The C-Sec captain stood for a moment, rubbing his chin with his hand, before nodding finally and extending his hand. John shook it. "Alright Shepard, it's a deal. You bring me evidence that can take Stricktern down, and I'll do the rest. You know, if I'm not dead by tomorrow."

"It's gotten that bad?" Tali asked softly.

"Afraid so. Hell, I've got a report in a personal file from one of their own, a Suns member looking to get out, who says they've just hired some drell kid to assassinate a local politician who's going to go public with the sort of evidence I'm talking about. Who knows if he'll survive the night."

"A drell?" John and Tali asked together, linking eyes.

"We need to go, Bailey," John said hurriedly, as the three of them ran out the door. "Send the coordinates to my omni-tool, frequency 492-10-A, and remember what I said." The door slid shut behind them, and Bailey pulled up his omni-tool to send the files.

"Yes sir...Commander Shepard, sir..." he laughed a little bit in disbelief. Now there were more people like Shepard. At least, there was one more, for what it was worth.

* * *

The shuttle landed on the platform for the Francis-Teller Industries shipping platform, Citadel offices. John, Tali, Garrus, and Thane stepped out and checked over their weapons, two looming doors standing closed before them.

"Alright, so the plan is to get in and find out where Kolyat's target is ASAP. Once we do that, Thane can peel off back here, take the shuttle, and go after him. Meanwhile, the three of us continue on and get to the databanks; there are a lot of people interested in what the Blue Suns have in here."

The team nodded, and they moved toward the doors. In an instant, they slid apart, revealing two YMIR mechs and a human standing in the doorway.

"Looks like we have visitors," a familiar voice called out.

"Harkin!" Garrus yelled. "How did I know we'd find you in the shittiest place on the Citadel?"

"I'm not sure who your contact is, but you can be sure he'll be dead by tomorrow. My hackers are the best there are."

"I wouldn't say 'best'," Tali muttered, tapping into her omni-tool, which changed color from orange to green. "Can you give me covering fire?" The men nodded, and all three rose up from cover to rain bullets down on Harkin and the mechs.

Harkin dove for cover, Tali sprinted from hers. She tore off toward the mechs, who didn't register a non-firing target as a higher priority than the three with assault rifles, and rolled between the legs of one, slamming her omni-tool into its rear data core. The machine spasmed and lurched, its programming being rewritten, and then it turned, firing its auto-cannon into its partner, the latter exploding in a shower of debris, while Harkin scrambled to his feet. Tali was on him in an instant, but he was scrawny, easily dodging her close-range punches and kicks.

With the hacked mech powering down, John, Garrus and Thane sprinted from cover, coming up the platform with weapons drawn, but unable to fire on Harkin. In a split second, it happened. Tali threw a punch aimed for Harkin's jaw, and the man ducked under it, coming back up with the flash of a knife. The blade ripped into the side of her leg, and she cried out in pain as it stopped supporting her weight. Harkin dropped the weapon and ran back into the hangar. "Kill them all!" he yelled as he ran.

Bullets began zipping out of the entrance to the hangar, and Garrus and Thane dove for cover. Shepard slid behind a metal crate where Tali knelt inspecting the wound, firing over the top to give her cover. "Tali! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she yelled over the gunfire. "Seals have clamped down and I'm swimming in antibiotics. The _bosh_ ' _tet_ wounded my pride more than my leg."

John nodded and smiled to her, and could see her return the gesture in her eyes. "Pride heals, I promise."

She unlatched her shotgun, and sent her drone careening into the warehouse to the sound of screaming mercenaries. At once, they stormed the doors, Thane diving over nearby crates to come up and snap a neck. John's assault rifle rang out, taking targets as they showed up, and Garrus rained down bullets with deadly accuracy as the group proceeded through the warehouse. One dozen, two dozen, three dozen fell to their onslaught, and by the time they'd reached the control room on the far side of the warehouse, mercenaries were turning and running from what they saw to be an elite commando team tearing them apart.

John kicked in the door to the control room, and Garrus rushed in. Before John could follow him in, he'd already heard a shot ring out and a cry of pain. When he entered, he saw what he'd expected: Harkin on the ground cradling is knee, and Garrus holding a smoking gun.

"Who's in charge here, Harkin?" The turian growled. "Who runs this place?"

"You're looking at him, Vakarian!" Harkin spat. "Oh, surprised?"

"Disgusted more fits the situation," Garrus replied. "It doesn't matter what filth they've put in charge of the warehouse. Give us the files you have or I'll take your other knee."

Harkin laughed without humor. "Yea, and you'll do it do, won't you? Omega changed you, didn't it, Vakarian? Brought you down to the lowlifes and the scum, took you down a couple pegs off of your shiny lawman pedestal and made yo-" Garrus shot Harkin in his other knee, earning a cry of pain, then dropped the weapon, stepping forward and slamming his foot down on the man's trachea.

"How about your life, Harkin? Is that worth more to you?" Underneath his boot, the human sputtered and swore breathlessly, and Garrus raised his foot. "Ready to talk?"

"Fuck," Harkin moaned, crawling away from the turian as fast as he could. "The terminal, it's all on the terminal there, everything we have. You take it, and I'm as good as dead. Blue Suns leadership won't give up that easy. They'll come kill me and start over again. You know C-Sec won't stop them."

"It's all here," Tali said, downloading the files to her omni-tool. "Conversations with powerful officials, off-world financial transactions and account information, kill authorizations ... it's exactly what we need." Garrus nodded.

"Thanks, Harkin," he said, picking up his pistol. "Now let me help you with those knees." He aimed the pistol at the human and put two round cleanly into his skull, the man's lifeless body falling to the floor.

"Garrus!" John yelled. "What the hell was that?"

Garrus stared at Harkin's body. "Justice, Shepard. Whether you see it that way or not, that's what it is." He opened his omni-tool, pulling up the address listed for Sidonis, along with his alter ego and contact information. He wouldn't be needing it. He'd be paying this visit in person. He raised his eyes to look at John, who still regarded him with barely-contained shock. "You know what, Shepard? I'll handle Sidonis myself."

"That wasn't the plan, Garrus."

"I'm aware. But this is personal. It's between me and Sidonis. And somehow I feel you'd just get in the way."

"Garrus, listen. I know you've lost people close to you, and I know how badly you're hurting right now, but just think before you do this. I gave you my word that I'd b-"

"Yea, you did. And I appreciate it Shepard. We both know I'd follow you into whatever hell is sure to come our way, I just need to do this one myself."

A long moment passed between the four teammates, and at last John nodded, his eyes never leaving Garrus's. "Alright. If that's how you feel then just meet us back at the Normandy. We'll wait for you."

"Understood." In a moment, he was gone, and the three of them remained.

"Something's different in his eyes," Tali whispered when he had gone.

"Revenge," Thane said softly. "I saw the same in myself when I avenged Irikah's death." His eyes still locked on the place Garrus had stood. "He will weather the storm, and return to who he was, or it will consume him. There...is nothing we can do. It is a war he must wage with himself."

" _Keelah_..." Tali whispered.

John turned to the others. "Garrus can handle himself, I know it. Right now, we need to focus on stopping Kolyat."

"We have the address from the files," Tali said. "We can be there in ten minutes if we're fast."

"If my son is as good as I was at his age," Thane began, "that may still not be fast enough."

* * *

Mordin sighed heavily, placing the datapad on the bench in front of him and stretching his arms out with a satisfying crack in each before letting them fall to his sides. He checked his chrono, and decided it was about time for a good night's rest. He had been cutting it too short the past few nights, milling over data both old and new concerning Mr. Moreau and his condition, possible treatment variations, schema after schema, and now he really needed a full night's rest. Hopping up on one of the tables in his lab, he lay back and set and alarm for two and a half hours from now; a good salarian night's sleep indeed.

Before his eyes had closed, the omni-tool made a chiming noise. At first he shrugged it off. After all, Daniel sent him almost daily updates from the clinic on Omega, and while he was proud of the boy, especially the strides he'd made in lab security, it had been getting to be a bit much. A moment later though, the device emitted three short chirps, and his eyes shot wide open. Slowly, he sat up and reached down to activate his second inbox. It was an account he had not used in years, an STG account linked only to others who had worked on the genophage. The thoughts of its effects still haunted him. He had convinced himself long ago that it had been for a good cause, but that didn't stop it from being any less horrific to behold. Opening the box's single message, he felt a lump catch in his throat as he read the subject line

_Hostage on Tuchanka._

Slowly, Mordin swung his legs over the side of the table and hopped down, crossing the room to a storage cabinet. From within, he pulled out a high-powered, lightweight pistol, checked the clip, then attached it to his belt. The STG, it seemed, would never truly be rid of Dr. Mordin Solus.

* * *

The krogan bodyguard exited the car, looked around for threats, and then motioned inside the vehicle. A moment later, Michael Vance stepped out, looking around warily as well. The two made for the entrance to the upscale apartment complex, oblivious to the shadow that followed them.

John rounded the corner at a sprint, Tali inches behind him, keeping up with his cybernetically enhanced legs. The figure stepped out of the shadows with a pistol raised, and John knew he had no other option. "Kolyat!" he yelled, and the drell's head whipped towards him, confusion dominating it. Vance and his bodyguard turned also, and the krogan put the pieces together faster, shoving Vance through the open doorway and pulling out his own pistol.

Shots rang out, and Kolyat ducked backwards into the shadows. The bodyguard ran forward to give chase, and an instant later the drell was behind him again, slamming a blade down between his shoulder blades. The krogan roared in pain and fell, bleeding onto the pavement. Raising his pistol, Kolyat fired at Shepard and Tali, who dove off into the alcove of a storefront, before turning and sprinting into the building after Vance. After a moment, John and Tali rushed forward. As they closed on the entryway, Thane joined them from a side alley.

"I tracked him, followed him in the shadows, but lost him moments ago, until I heard the gunfire."

"He's chasing Vance into the apartment building," John yelled as they ran. "If we hurry we can catch him."

They tore through the lobby, past the dead bodies of two security guards, and up the stairs they knew led to Vance's unit. Moments later, they kicked in the door to the man's apartment, to find him on his knees in front of Kolyat's pistol.

"One more step and he dies!" The boy yelled harshly. John and Tali stopped, but Thane stepped forward.

"Kolyat..."

"Wh-what? No, it can't be. Now? **Now** you come back? Just when I've given you up for dead?"

Outside, C-Sec sirens wailed, and John kept his weapon trained on Kolyat. "Thane, Bailey can't touch the Suns, so you know he'll have everyone moving double time on anything he **can** touch." The drell nodded without looking at him, and moments later the sounds of boots could be heard coming up the stairs.

The door on the opposite side of the room sprang open, admitting Bailey and two other C-Sec officers, all with weapons trained on Kolyat. Bailey nodded to John, then spoke "C-Sec, put down the weapon, son, you don't want to do this."

Kolyat laughed cruelly. "Get out of my way. Mr. Vance and I are walking out of here right now."

Thane stepped forward again, a hand raised toward his son. "Kolyat, they'll have snipers outside, you won't make it twenty yards before they kill you."

"What are you, trying to give me advice now? Isn't it enough for you that I'm trying to live this life?"

"No, Kolyat!" Thane yelled. "This isn't the life I wanted for you!"

"Then where were you?" He asked with cold fury. "Where were you when they sent her body to the sea? Where were you when I returned that night to an empty home and no future?"

"I was...lost, Kolyat. I tried to avenge her and in the process, I lost myself. I don't want that for you." Thane stepped forward, wrapping his hands around Kolyat's that held his weapon. "Please, Kolyat. Don't make the mistakes I made. There is still a better path for you to walk."

The young drell's eyes brimmed with pain, and he bored holes into his father's head with his loathing, but his hands shook, and then dropped the weapon. Vance immediately sprang to his feet, moving across the room, and John picked up the weapon. Bailey and his people lowered their pistols, and he spoke softly into his omni-tool. Moments later, the sounds of C-Sec vehicles moving off into the night could be heard dissipating outside the windows. John crossed to Bailey, who spoke.

"So, meeting you here, I imagine that means you got the files you needed from our mutual acquantaince."

"Yea," John replied, his gaze still on the two drell speaking quietly. "And it's more than enough to accomplish what we need to."

"Good," Bailey breathed heavily. "It's about time things changed around here. After all, you'll need us ready when they come back, right?" John met his gaze, and nodded.

"I will, Bailey."

"Then I'll do what I can." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "Not really sure what to do with this one though. I mean it's obvious he's troubled, has some family problems that may be just starting to get worked out...but the kid did attempt to murder Mr. Vance here."

"Are you going to arrest him, captain?" Vance asked cautiously as he approached. "The drell had a gun to the back of my head."

For a moment John and Bailey looked at each other, then Bailey nodded. "No."

Vance balked. "What?!"

"The kid is confused, Vance. Besides, he's not what you want. This," he said, opening his omni-tool to which John had transferred the Blue Suns files, "is what you want." Information streamed across the device, and the politician's eyes widened as he read.

"Jesus, Bailey...where did you get this?"

Bailey snapped the device off. "From my trusted colleague here. So here's the deal; you forget everything that happened here tonight, and we work together to take down this thing from within. We've got the information, we've got the men ready to fight for change if they know it's a winning battle. We can fix this place, Vance."

The politician looked back and forth from the drell to Bailey before finally nodding. "Alright, it's a deal. But this had better be worth it, Bailey. It's both our asses on the line."

"It will be, Vance, I can promise you that."

* * *

The lights were all out, and it seemed as if they had been for a long time. The only light that found its way into the dark, unkempt apartment filtered in from the outside native lighting of the Wards, fighting its way thorough a hastily-closed and instantly-forgotten set of blinds, and finally coming to a rest atop the small table in front of the sofa, a long thin beam of light cutting across the dusty surface. In the corner, by the doorway, hung a single coat; black, with a hole worn in the left elbow, not made much larger in the time since it had been worn on Omega.

The apartment was barebones, its occupant clearly having no interest in making it a home, but Garrus didn't care. He wasn't here to ask how Sidonis had been living, he was here to kill the man. He lay asleep, if restlessly, underneath where Garrus stood, to the side of the couch. He tossed and turned, groaning and occasionally crying out in a sad whimper. Garrus had been standing here for five minutes; the locks on the door had been so simple he'd found them an insult, and a testament to how truly Sidonis thought him dead.

After a long moment of drinking in the moment, bitter vengeance coursing in his blood, he took out his pistol and pressed the barrel to Sidonis's forehead. The cold steel against skin immediately woke the other turian, his eyes widening in dread as he realized who stood over him. To his credit, or his fear, he didn't move, just began speaking.

"Garrus! I-I thought you were dead!"

"I guess that's understandable, since you're the one who killed us."

"Garrus, please, I-I'm begging you. It wasn't like th-!"

"Shut up! I'm not here for excuses. I'm here to settle a debt you owe us."

"It's n-not like that, I swear!" he cried out, desperate to be heard.

"Then what **is** it like, you spineless waste of a turian?! Hmm? Tell me what it was like! Tell me what they gave you to make you kill the only family you had on that forsaken rock!" He shoved the barrel harder against Sidonis's head, and he winced in pain.

"I didn't kill them! They tortured me, Garrus! For days and nights, hours and hours, all I knew was pain. But I wouldn't give in. I wouldn't give you up. But then..." he stammered and his voice caught in his throat. "Garrus they had my family...they were going to kill them."

Pain welled in Garrus's heart, but he was resolved to hate Sidonis. He had betrayed them, no matter his reason. "We knew that was a chance we were all taking, Sidonis."

"I know...but I couldn't make that call. I couldn't be the one to let them die. Garrus..." the men locked eyes, and Garrus's grip on the pistol began to shake. "It was an impossible decision...and I've never forgotten it; never will. I barely eat, I d-don't sleep well anymore, all I see are Vortash, Monteague, Sensat, Krul...I s-see their faces and I ... I know I'm the reason they're dead. The Suns took me off of Omega and left me here to rot. I haven't heard a word from them since."

"It doesn't bring them back...it doesn't make it alright..." Garrus growled in pain. Tears streamed from Sidonis's face, and he shook his head against the barrel of the pistol.

"I know it doesn't. There wasn't a right decision, just two horrible, wrong ones. They tortured me for days, but I died the day I gave you up. I'm just a walking corpse now; a shell of the turian I used to be..."

Silence hung between them, Garrus's rage clashing with his damnable empathy and understanding of the situation. Had he been in Sidonis's situation...No. He couldn't put himself there, he couldn't try to see from his perspective. This was revenge, not a public inquiry. His hand tightened on the grip.

"Garrus," Sidonis whispered, pulling Garrus out of his thoughts. "If you need to kill me, I understand." Silence again, then his shaky, pained voice. "I just want you to know how sorry I am...you're right, you know. You were the only family I had on Omega...I'm not asking you to forgive me; I can't ever ask that...I'm just asking you to please end this nightmare..." His body shook with silent sobbing, and Garrus's heart strained. He held the pistol with his finger on the trigger, his hand shaking. It was barely noticeable, but to Garrus, it was an earthquake.

_The lights and noise of Omega mix into a cacophony of sound below them as Garrus holds the firing turret level. He strains with all his might, but the damned thing keeps fighting him to fall over. Grunting, he calls out below him._

" _Is this thing secure yet?"_

" _Hmm?" Vortash's four eyes peek out from underneath the platform Garrus is standing on, and he looks up at Garrus._

" _I said is that thing secure yet?"_

" _Just about. You want me to bolt it down or lay here talking to you?"_

" _Oh shut up and do it already!" Garrus yells, and he hears the deep laughter of the batarian as he slides back under the platform to secure the turret._

" _Alright," he says, coming to his feet, "It's done. Anyone comes at us from the air, these things will tear them apart."_

" _Nice work" Garrus says, dropping down from above. "Just need one or two more and we'll be safe from the air." Vortash nods, and the sounds of combat below snag their attention. Rushing to the edge of the rooftop, they look down, seeing Grundan Krul sparring with the four humans, rushing in every direction and swinging his arms to try and connect. Beside him, Vortash chuckles._

" _He is a fearsome creature, Grundan Krul. But what he has in strength, he lacks in finesse."_

_It was Garrus's turn to laugh. "Finesse? It's been my experience that war isn't generally about finesse. I think Krul's victims might agree. Besides," he continued, sitting down on the edge of the building, "isn't it a little odd for a demolitions expert to talk about finesse?"_

_Vortash turned to him. "War is nothing but, Archangel; especially in demolitions work. Krul is a great asset, a great ally, but sometimes..." He sat down as well, and the men locked gazes. "Sometimes the greatest skill a warrior has is knowing when to spare a life, in addition to knowing when to take one."_

The end of the barrel shifted slightly on Sidonis's forehead, a product of Garrus's shaky hand, and Sidonis opened his eyes. Silent tears, some pain, some memories, some rage, slid down Garrus's rough cheeks and across the scars and metal plating he'd earned on Omega. After a moment, he slowly pulled the pistol away, deactivating and holstering it. He took a couple unsteady steps back from the couch, and Sidonis sat up slowly, turning to look him in the eye.

"I...I don't understand."

"Live your life, Sidonis...and someday...when we both die...we'll meet up with the others in hell."

The other turian nodded slowly in understanding. "Thank you, Garrus."

"Thank Vortash, Sidonis," Garrus said quietly, turning to leave. "Thank Vortash."

He stepped out into the night-air of the Wards, the artificially generated soft breeze whipping at his coat as he stowed his pistol. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself, but mixed feelings of outrage and understanding clashed within him. He had been wrong; he shouldn't have come here alone. Spirits, he wished Shepard were here, or Tali. Hell at this point he'd even take Wrex. He stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and fell to all fours in the middle of the street. The tears came again then, the memories and the pain...He tried not to sob, not to let his body be wracked as Sidonis's had, and so he simply kneeled on all fours, crying silently into the metal surface below him.

_Click, click, click, click._

He looked up, and through his blurry, tear-filled eyes he could barely make out her form as she decloaked. Her black combat suit, the heels of her boots clicking against the walkway as she moved to meet him. She shouldn't be here; he'd told her not to come...She arrived just in front of him, but said nothing, just knelt down to look him in the eye. He shook his head.

"I...I couldn't...I wasn't strong enough..."

She took his face in her hands, and he stared into her eyes as she leaned forward and kissed him. The gesture seemed to last for hours, though he knew it to only be seconds, and when she pulled away her words were whispers.

"Yes, you were."

* * *

Maerin'Cal nar Tonbay sat down in the pilot's seat of the shipping frigate with a satisfied sigh. Behind his visor, a broad smile split his lips. He was finished. He'd saved a financial company from certain ruin, albeit through some slightly illegal accessing of their rival's file systems, and as a reward they had purchased for him outright this ship. He was lucky that it flew, he was lucky that it was legitimately his, he was lucky they hadn't simply kicked him out of their offices without so much as a "thank you" simply because he was quarian. Yes, he'd found a group of honest people, who paid him to do some dishonest work. Still, that was the way of the universe, he imagined. For his part, he'd be happy to get back to the Fleet and stay there. There was, after all, a pretty girl waiting for him...

As he left Elysium's atmosphere and began to plot a flight plan to the last known coordinates of the Migrant Fleet, his omni-tool chimed out. Opening it, he read the message within, his heart sinking a little with each passing sentence.

_Maerin'Cal nar Tonbay,_

_You were hired by a man who I have very close ties to, and I need a job done by one of your kind. This is a simple job, but know that should you fail, I will make it known to all appropriate officials that you have stolen one of his shipping frigates with the intent of claiming it for your people. The Elysium port officials won't appreciate that, I can assure you, and I don't imagine your superiors on the Fleet will either._

_In the overhead storage container of your cabin is a container. Do not open it. You are to deliver it directly to Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh upon your return to the Migrant Fleet. I will know when you have completed this task. I will also know if you neglect to._

_Your life hangs precariously on this simple task, Maerin'Cal. Do not fail to perform it._

Maerin'Cal stood, walking shakily back to the storage compartment and opening it. Within sat a box, no larger than the palm of his hand, and he closed the hatch again with a deep breath. Sitting back down, he plugged in the coordinates and made for the rendezvous point. He would make this delivery, and not ask questions. His friends had been honest men in how they'd treated him.

Still, he thought, perhaps not as honest as he'd believed.


	33. In Blood

***Author's Note***  
Just spent an hour and a half rewriting the plot outline, looks like  
we're planning for 44 total chapters plus an Epilogue to close out FWAM.  
I'm really looking forward to getting into FitS, but we've got work to  
do before that can happen!

* * *

**In Blood**

_They burned, but he couldn't look away. Well, couldn't or wouldn't, it didn't really matter anymore. They shone with unearthly radiance, searing his retinae, and he selected another. The white light bathed him, burned him, constricted his very being. It was painful, but liberating. The light flashed, and yet again he stared down at the same aged floor. He didn't need to look up to know they'd still be there. This was getting him nowhere, and he hung his head in frustration._

_"They are beautiful, are they not?" the voice asked with barely-contained wonder, and John's head snapped up to see the outline. Just like all of them, it was blurry, out of focus, completely unrecognizable. They all were, but none of them spoke._

_"What are they, exactly?" he replied, hearing his own voice muffled, as if speaking through a piece of cloth._   
_The other simply laughed softly. "They are not to be told, they are to be learned." His form swirled in the mists of the dream, twisting and collapsing into nothingness. John spun, looking around him for any sign of the other, but found only the smooth floor, the mists of the dream, and the lights beckoning above..._

His eyes snapped open, the rough bulkhead of his cabin awaiting them. With a muffled groan, he leaned over, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and holding his head in his hands. It ached again, the way it always did after the dream, and he stood up, moving toward the head to get the painkillers Chakwas had given him. They rattled softly as they spilled into his hand, and he stared at them for a long moment; little pink capsules promising to take away the ache for awhile. Still, they would never be the answer. For that, he needed to understand the lights, the floor, the entire dream. He shook his head, taking the pills and chasing them with water from the sink.

Switching the light off, he walked back into the bedroom, but stopped halfway. It lay there on his desk, as it had since the last time he'd touched it. The datapad held secrets, things he needed to know, but Liara had told him not to open it until the right time. He didn't know when that time would be, but he was certain at least that now wasn't that time. Still...if it were something he needed to know...

He shook his head. She trusted him to know when that time was, he needed to trust her that it was worth waiting until that point. He crawled back into bed, wrapping his arm around the quarian next to him. He felt her unconsciously move closer to him in return, and he tried to push all thoughts out of his mind. The lights, the datapad, even the reapers. For a moment, just a single moment, he let himself know only the feel of her next to him, and it was all he needed.

* * *

She looked out the viewport into the stars, thankful to once more be home. Not that it could ever truly be home, but for now it would have to suffice, and if she were honest with herself, she'd like to consider it home for as much as she could.

She shook her head. Her thoughts were running away with her again. It was an odd feeling, and not one she experienced often. Though as of late, it had been happening more and more. She looked down into the glass she held, and the dark liquid inside. It had been too long since she'd had a stiff drink, she thought with regret, and took another sip.

The past few days had been...interesting, to say the least. She'd definitely learned more about Jacob Taylor than she'd ever thought she could. And in doing so, she supposed, she had learned quite a bit about her own weaknesses. She was cold, standoffish, a byproduct of her upbringing, she imagined. But not with him. He seemed to be the one person who could cut through her exterior and always speak directly to the heart of her. It made their interaction at the same time uncomfortable and reassuring, and she still couldn't make up her mind as to whether or not she liked it. Back on the Sydney...she'd thought for a moment that maybe he could forgive her...

She set her glass down on the nearby table with a little more force than necessary and folded her arms in front of the window. Out of the corner of her eye should could see her terminal's orange glow steadily beaming; she had no new messages. No new work to be done. Nothing to take her mind off of this.

The door opened, and he stepped in, as if her thinking about him could summon him like a phantom. He didn't say a word, just stepped in, let the door close behind him, and locked it. Her heart leaped up into her throat, but she kept her composure. "I didn't know you wanted to see me..." she began hesitantly, but he still said nothing, just walked across the room toward her. She took a step back at his approach. "Jacob?"

He closed with her, reaching out his hands to take her by the waist. His grip was steel, but a comforting, all-encompassing one, and she put her hands on top of his, holding him at bay while he met her gaze. After a moment, he spoke in a whisper.

"Miranda, I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, for a couple organizations I'm not sure I believe in anymore. But if we're going on a suicide mission here, I'm not going without doing one thing I can be proud of. Something I should have done a long time ago."

Her hands moved from his own to his chest, and she made to push him away, but it was half-hearted at best. "Jacob...I'm not...I don't think..." He took a step forward, moving her backwards, and she felt the cold metal of the bulkhead against her back. He leaned in, his lips inches from hers, and whispered.

"Then stop thinking, Miranda."

Slowly, surely, her hands slid down and off of his chest, letting him close the final distance between them. He did, and their lips collided, the torrent of memories running through her head. The things she'd said and done, their parting, the tension between them since, it all faded from her mind. Her arms shot up, wrapping themselves around his neck, and she kissed him back with all the passion she had in her.

She wasn't sure if it was the best decision. She wasn't sure how he'd feel about her tomorrow. But for right here, right now, it all just felt right.

* * *

"Joker, what's going on?" John asked, grabbing onto the overhead handle as the Kodiak shook violently again. The pilot held steady, his teeth gritted, while he plotted an ever-changing course correction chart.

"Magnetic field of the planet..." he grumbled, straining to readjust the console as quickly as possible. "Throwing the sensors and stabilizers off."

 _"My sensors indicate an eighty-six percent chance of crash landing without atmospheric retreat,"_ EDI projected into the cabin.

"No, it'll be fine," Joker insisted, his fingers flying. "Once we get inside the atmosphere, it'll level out." Silence hung in the cabin, and Joker spared a quick glance to see John appraising him. "It'll level out," he said directly to him. After a moment, John nodded.

"Then bring it in, Joker"

The pilot struggled with the rocking shuttle, and after a few more seconds of turbulence, he pulled back on the thrusters. The whole craft shook violently, vibrating so hard that John could feel his teeth rattle in his skull. Then, a thunder-crack outside the shuttle pealed out, and they glided smoothly into the Tuchankan atmosphere. Joker leaned back in the seat, exhaling sharply.

"Whew...well that was fun."

The ship slowed as it descended, making for a large crater in the planet's harsh dusty surface. In the distance, columns of smoke and fire could be seen reaching toward the heavens, as if the elements themselves yearned to be free of Tuchanka's grasp. Joker set the shuttle down inside the cavernous crater, and the hatch opened into the darkness of it's interior. Lights flickered to life, illuminating the platform and the walkway, and at the far end a door opened, admitting three krogan. Two wore full body armor and carried assault rifles, and a quick glimpse from John confirmed their safeties were off. Though he supposed no krogan willingly turned the safety of his weapon on...

The middle krogan stepped forward, his un-helmeted face a myriad of scars, and his lips pulled back in a barely-contained snarl. "Nice collection you have, human." He turned and spit to the ground. "You and you're experiment are to see Urdnot Wrex at once. He's set up quarters for your crew, I'll take them there."

John turned, nodding to his team, and they followed the krogan soldiers out of the hangar and down the hallway. Left alone in the hangar, John turned to Grunt. "So...I guess a 'welcome home' is in order."

Grunt looked around the cavern, across the broken rocks, with open disgust. "This is the great krogan home-world? This is the land of Kredak, Shiagur, and Veol? This chunk of rock is barely worth standing on...it almost makes me miss the tank..."

John followed his gaze around. "It definitely seems like it's seen better days. Still, from what Wrex used to say, the krogan have been fighting each other for control for centuries. If they could be united...imagine the force they could bring to bear."

Grunt scoffed. "A united krogan. Battle is in our blood, Shepard. Centuries of warfare and bloodshed, and we're still no closer to being what we once were. I wasn't there for it, but even I can tell this rock is disgraceful." He paused a moment. "Still, if Urdnot Wrex is willing to try, I want to hear what he has to say."

John nodded. "Then let's go. I'm sure he's waiting."

They left the hangar, following the path down flights of stairs, and past krogan eyes that not-so-subtly judged him. On the lowest floor, in the center of a crumbling dais, sat Wrex. He hadn't seemed to have aged a day since they'd last seen each other, disembarking from the SR-1. The only thing different was his armor. John recognized the Urdnot clan armor they'd recovered for Wrex, and he had to admit it looked damn imposing, gleaming against the harsh light inside the cavernous base. He sat with his head in one hand, listening to what looked like a report from another krogan about the state of their defenses. As he approached, another guard stepped in front of him.

"You must wait, the clan chief is in talks."

"Shepard?" The booming voice called from the dais.

"Excuse us," John said, stepping around the guard, and up onto the platform. "Wrex."

The krogan leaned forward, standing from his seat and appraising the other man. After a moment, he seemed to remember himself, and turned to the krogan first speaking. "Later, Jrath, we'll go over the plans again."

The other krogan nodded. "Later, then." He stepped down from the dais and walked back across the cavern.

"Shepard...my friend," Wrex began, extending an arm which John took, shaking at the forearm. "Looks like even death can't hold you."

"It certainly tried," he replied with a grin. "I think I've got more metal in me than bone now, but I'm back for what it's worth."

"You just don't know when to die, Shepard. I always liked that about you. I'd be half tempted to believe you had krogan blood in your veins." After a moment of meeting each other's gaze, Wrex's eyes slid across to Grunt. "And this must be Okeer's experiment." He stepped close to Grunt, who lowered his head slightly in tank-taught deference, and smiled. "Huh. He knows the ways, at least." He appraised the young krogan with sharp eyes. "Physical perfection."

"My bloodline was distilled from the great warlords of old. Kredak, Shiagur, Ve-"

"Hah," Wrex chuckled, "You rattle off the names of great warlords, but don't know why they're great, pup."

"Because they crushed enemies under their boots, took planets, thrived on bloodshed."

"Aah," Wrex waved away the statement, turning away and walking toward the other end of the dais, which looked out over the war-torn landscape before them. "Any idiot with more idiots at his back can do that. Taking planets and killing enemies is trivial." He turned back around to face them. "It's one thing to lead krogan to warfare. It's something else to unite them in it."

"Sounds like a lot's changed for you, Wrex," John said, stepping forward. "I remember a mercenary who wanted nothing to do with leadership. Now you're," he gestured around to the cavern, "a clan chief, looking to be the next krogan warlord?"

Wrex laughed, a booming sound. "Yea, that's about the size of it. But only one thing changed, Shepard. You showed me the enemy. Saren, the geth, they were ants. You showed me the reapers, and I knew we needed to be ready." He looked out over the cavern, where hundreds of krogan went about their tasks, many from different clans, all united in purpose. "It's been...rough. And the worst is coming." He turned back to look at John. "But we'll be ready. If it's the last thing I do, my people will be ready for the reapers."

Grunt stepped forward. "Then let me help. Let me fight. I know I'm not of Tuchankan soil, but I am krogan. Shepard has seen it, he can tell you anything you need to know."

"I'm sure he can, pup," Wrex replied, a wicked grin on his face. "You'd have to be good to replace me on that scrap-heap ship of his."

"Easy now," John cried.

Wrex laughed, then met the younger krogan's fiery gaze. "I can see the blood-rage in you, tank-bred. Boiling beneath the surface..." He seemed to look through Grunt, seeing into the past, before speaking again a moment later. "You say you're krogan. We'll find out. Go to the shaman. Tell him I've sent you for the Rite. You'll need a krantt, two warriors willing to follow you into battle and kill in your name. Finish the Rite...and I'll bring you into Urdnot myself."

"I will," Grunt said with more conviction than John had ever seen from the krogan, then turned and left the dais. John began to follow him.

"And Shepard," Wrex called, causing the other man to stop and turn. "You could have done a lot better to replace me than some madman's experiment."

John grinned back. "I didn't have a lot of applications for the position." He turned to follow Grunt, Wrex's booming laughter following him out of the cavern.

* * *

"Well of course we need the most funding, we're the ones cleaning it up!" Udina's angry tone matched his angry mood. Perhaps he would have been more calm had this not been the fourth conversation like this they'd had this month.

It was a simple enough problem, with no easy solution. Humanity was cleaning up the damage that the geth attack had caused, humanity was policing the wards, adding coverage to an already-over-strained C-Sec force, and humanity was patrolling Citadel space with their ships. Still, every time Councilor Anderson had asked for an increase in expenditures toward human efforts, he'd been shot down. Worse than that, he hadn't fought back, just accepted the judgment of the other Councilors, who in Udina's eyes still hated humanity for the debt they owed it. It was enough to drive a man mad.

"Your angry shouting doesn't help the situation, Udina," the Councilor retorted quietly, not even looking up from the datapad he held. Udina slammed his hands down on the man's desk.

"And your blind obedience to the other Councilors on everything not regarding Commander fucking Shepard isn't either, Councilor!" He spat the title at the man's face, and Anderson did look up then, setting the datapad down.

"You have a problem with my position, Donnell?"

"Only with the means by which you acquired it, David." He paused a moment, staring the man in the face. He'd known this confrontation had been coming for awhile now, but like most conflicting arguments, it had sprung itself on him in the middle of something else entirely. Resolved, he continued. "We both know the only reason you're wearing those robes instead of me is because of your pet Spectre. He saves the day from a bunch of over-sized blenders and for five minutes his word is gold. But I'm the better choice, everyone knows it. You're a washed up ship's captain, David, and if you had half the passion I have, the Council races would respect us, not kick us around trying to squeeze free labor and protection out of us, I guarantee you."

"First," Anderson said, his expression empty, "Those 'over-sized blenders' would have killed everyone aboard this station, and allowed the reapers to harvest all life in the galaxy had Shepard not been here to stop them. Second, I fight the battles I need to in order to protect the galactic nation, not simply humanity, as is a Councilor's duty. And third," Anderson sprung from the desk, grabbing Udina's collar in his clenched fist and pulling the man's face within inches of his own. "If you speak that way to me, to your Councilor, again, I won't send Spectres, or Alliance special forces, or hired assassins to kill you...I'll do it myself. Do you understand me, Udina?"

Udina's eyes widened, and he stammered out an understanding, and an apology. Anderson let go of his collar, and the man stepped back as the Councilor calmly picked his datapad back up, re-focusing his gaze on it once more. Udina stood, slightly shaking, until Anderson spoke again.  
"You can leave now, Donnell."

Nodding, Udina grabbed the datapad he'd brought from the corner of the desk and turned to all but run from the room. As soon as he'd heard the door shut behind him, his fear fell away and was replaced by anger. Councilor or not, no man treated him this way. He shook his head; it didn't matter. Soon enough Anderson's failure at his post would be too great to ignore, and Udina would be the man they turned to, the man they should have turned to in the first place.

He weaved his way through the crowded Ambassador's hallway, back to his small office at the end of the hall on the right. He pressed his palm to the scanner, which read his finger and palm prints to identify him, then synced his omni-tool to the lock when asked. The security was large-scale, and he locked the office every time he left. The last thing he needed was some spy getting information allowing the other Councilors to lord themselves over humanity any more than they already did, and so as long as he had any say in the matter, no one would enter his office but him.

The door slid open, and he entered, turning around to lock it once more. He crossed to his desk, laying the datapad down with a sigh and sitting in the chair there. He closed his eyes, rubbing them with the palms of his hands and almost wishing Shepard had died in that foolish attack. Things would have turned out so much better had the man not unwittingly doomed his race to ineptitude in the Council chambers. After a moment he let out a long breath, sitting upright and ready to get back to work. After all, the cleanup and protection efforts wouldn't have become as strong as they were without his overs-

He froze. In his nigh-impenetrable office, in the center of his desk, where his datapad had been before he'd left for Anderson's chambers, sat a small, black box.

* * *

They had been walking for over an hour, the krogan caravan stopping five miles out from the Proving Ground. John walked alongside Grunt, with Garrus on his other side, as they approached the large construct, the only tall-standing structure on the surface for miles around. The sun beat down relentlessly, and even though the cooling systems in his armor kept his body temperature regulated, John felt is presence, the scorch of Aralakh beating down upon him. He thought of Tali back at Wrex's base, still mending her enviro-suit after their fight with Harkin. Unconsciously, his eyes slid across the landscape to land on Garrus. They hadn't spoken of the incident since it had happened, though John felt a remorseful resignation to the events from the turian. If he wanted him to know, he'd tell him.

"There," Grunt called out over their frequency, pointing to a seemingly-collapsed service drainage pipe. "That's our way in." They reached it in minutes, climbing over razor-sharp rocks and crawling on hands and knees before opening a large hatch overhead. The hatch led them out onto a platform, ringed by metal pylons, with a large tower behind them. The tower housed a gigantic piston, which hung ominously above a large metal plate at the tower's base. A manual, lever-based interface, technology lost to time, stood at the base of the tower, with three levers in a row. Around them, scattered amongst the rubble and metal scraps, lay krogan bodies, or what remained of them; those unworthy of finishing the rite, unworthy of being krogan. Their presence seemed to multiply Grunt's rage. "Alright...let's do this." The wind whipped at them as Grunt crossed to the first lever and pulled it down. Over grainy loudspeakers, the voice of the Shaman called out to them.

_"This is the Proving Ground, the site of the Keystone. For centuries, it has endured through wars and conflict, like the krogan, testing the might of those who have come before us. Contemplate its trials, thrive in the chaos it creates, and bathe in the blood of the enemies you face, be they physical or otherwise. This is your task, you who would be krogan. This is your trial."_

The speakers cut out, and a loud whine emitted out across the Proving Ground, low at first then climbing in pitch until it resembled a ship's engine. The speakers came to life once more, with a voice unrecognizable; an ancient krogan long-since dead:

_"First the krogan conquered Tuchanka, and mastered a natural world only we are fit to hold."_

The piston let loose a loud crack, the large metal casing slamming down onto the metal plate below. In the distance, the snarling of dozens of Varren echoed out across the plain. They poured in from every crack in the structure, some stopping to feast on the dead remains of the fallen krogan, but most rushing straight for the three of them. They quickly grouped up, covering cones of sight while firing their weapons into the pack of attackers. The bodies of varren piled up quickly, but more kept coming.

"On your left!" Garrus called out, and John swung his rifle to fire, but the Varren was faster. The muzzle of the weapon caught in its jaw, and John hammered down the trigger to exlplode the top part of its head in a shower of gore. His weapon lodged in the beast, another pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. He let the rifle go, prising the beast's gaping and slobbering mouth away from his face as they tumbled. Grunt stood over him, fending off the other attackers as John dealt with the Varren, twisting around and snapping its neck.

"Raaaaagh! Come on! Is that all you've got?!" Grunt roared into the onslaught, ripping two grenades from his belt and hurling them at the pack. They ignited on impact, sending a blazing inferno out to engulf at least a dozen of the creatures. Garrus's rifle took down a few more, and John resorted to his knife, twisting and dodging the beasts' attacks to quickly counter with devastating slashes and stabs. After what felt like hours, the three stood alone once more.

"Whew," Garrus began, wiping the blood off of his face and armor, "I sure hope there's a good celebration after this."

"If I know Wrex," Shepard muttered, leaning over to grab his discarded rifle, "he'll just ask what took us so long."

Grunt leaned down, grabbing a handful of the dirt on which he stood. "This world thrives amidst the chaos of war." He turned to John. "War doesn't scar Tuchanka, Shepard, war defines it."

"Now you're starting to fit the part," Garrus said, reloading his rifle. "Ready when you are."

John nodded when Grunt looked back to him, and the krogan returned to the keystone, pulling the second lever. Once again, the speakers cried out to the barren wasteland:

_"Then the krogan were lifted to the stars to destroy the fears of a galaxy, an enemy only we could chase to their lair."_

The whirring of metal machinery emitted from the tower, and the metal plate below slid aside, being replaced by a solid stone block. Once more the piston whined, then fired, the stone slab shattering, and the ground beneath them quaking at the sudden resonance. Then, before them, a dozen spots in the ground began to crumble, breaking apart as Klixen burst through to the surface. Grunt looked around, reaching over to a dead krogan's corpse and taking his rifle. An assault rifle in each arm, he stood at the top of a short staircase, unloading into the pack of hissing and screeching creatures.

Garrus took point at another stairwell, switch to incendiary rounds and taking aim as a pair of the things charged him. John brought his rifle around to cover him, but at the last moment the turian squeezed the trigger, placing a shot right into the flame sac of the front Klixen. It shrieked, erupting into flame and exploding. The explosing caused a chain reaction to the one beside it, whose resulting explosion threw Garrus back against a stone column. The impact cracked the base, and the structure began to tumble onto the disoriented turian.

"Garrus!" John called, fending off the Klixen advancing on him, "Get out of there!"

The tower began to crumble as Garrus got to his feet, and Grunt rushed across the platform, ramming his shoulder into the column as it fell. The massive application of force sent the top part of the column off-course, and crashing it down on top of three advancing Klixen, their insect legs squirming for a moment and then lying still. Grunt reached down, helping Garrus to his feet, when a large talon pierced through his left shoulder. Grunt roared in pain, spinning and tackling the creature to the ground, it's talon still wrenching to get free of his thick shoulder muscles and armor. Blood poured from the wound, but Grunt ripped the talon from his shoulder, twisting it in mid-air and slamming it down into the Klixen's brain stem, killing it instantly.

"Grunt, you alright?" Garrus called across to the krogan, his rifle sweeping the area for more targets as he yelled. John did the same, and when it was clear they were alone again, the two of them moved over to help the krogan to his feet. As he stood, he laughed.

"Alright?" He took a deep breath of the hot Tuchankan air. "I've never felt more alive. One more lever and I can go back with a great scar." He brushed past his bewildered team mates and pulled the last lever down with a reverence usually reserved for sacred artifacts. Which, John supposed, to him the keystone was. The grainy voice called out once more:

_"Now, all krogan bear the genophage. It is our reward, our curse. It is a fight whose only goal can be survival."_

The remains of the stone block at the base of the pillar tumbled into the depths of the ground below, but nothing moved in to take its place. The piston wound up again, then shot down, past the surface, and into the dark below. For a moment, all was quiet, the only sound being the whipping of the wind through the Proving Grounds. Then, an ancient rumbling emitted from the ground below them, and one by one, tentacles sprouted from the earth around the large arena in which they stood. John's eyes widened, the horrors of the past coming back to life in front of his eyes.

"No..." he whispered, almost inaudibly over the harsh wind.

"What, Shepard?" Garrus asked. "What is it?"

John's answer was pre-empted by a low, rumbling laughter. They both turned to see Grunt readying his rifle and staring off into the distance. He met their gaze, and spoke. "The maw."

"Oh..." Garrus thought aloud. "Oh shit..."

It's eruption was akin to a ten-story building shooting out of the earth, then looming above them. It reeled back, then hurled acid into the arena, and all three dove out of the way, taking cover behind the tall metal spires that ringed the platform they stood on. The beast roared, diving back into the earth, and the ground shook beneath them as they felt it course undeterred below.

"Shepard!" Garrus yelled across, "How do we beat it?"

John met his gaze. "We survive. We survive until it gives up. That's all we can do."

"Survive?!" Grunt yelled across to the humans. "Where's your rage, Shepard? Where's your vengeance? I read up on you; this is your chance to settle the score from Akuze!"

His face was stone, but inwardly, John winced at the mention of the place. "It's not the same, Grunt!"

"They're all the same, Shepard!" the krogan called back, reloading his rifle. "And they can die like anything else!"

The beast erupted from the earth, and they unloaded rounds into its thick armor. The bullets fell off of it without harming it, this beast whose home was solid rock, and the acid it hurled singed their skin just by passing nearby. It's toxic fumed pervaded the arena, and even the harsh winds could not carry it all away as the maw continued to assail them. John leaned out from cover, aiming a shot at the back of its throat, and fired into it, causing the beast to reel back in pain and roar.

"Shoot its venom sacs, or we'll choke to death before it ever gets near!" John shouted, and the others nodded, taking aim. The beast fired more venom at Grunt's position, its green liquid spilling over the ancient metal tower he hid behind, melting it on contact. The structure fell, and Grunt sprinted across the platform, making for the last open cover spot. The beast spotted him, and lurched forward. "Grunt!" Shepard cried, but it was too late. The maw slammed down onto grunt, trapping him in its mouth. John ran toward it, firing everything he had to save the krogan, but the beast pulled back from the platform, leaving an empty spot ringed in acid where Grunt had been. Halfway across the arena, it lurched, stopping its movement when its mouth was forced open from the inside.

Grunt stood hunched inside its mouth, at the hinge of its jaw, fighting back from being crushed. Acid dripped over him, searing the hard flesh on his arms and scorching the armor he wore. He howled in pain and rage, swinging out from the hinge and allowing the maw to close around him. As the jaws came together, he pulled out a long knife, thrusting it upwards into the roof of the maw's gaping mouth. The beast screamed and thrashed, but Grunt roared and sawed away at it, grabbing the maw's acid-soaked tongue with his gauntleted hand to steady himself, and ignoring the pain. John and Garrus watched as Grunt dropped the knife, then pointed his rifle straight up into the rough-hewn hole and unloaded.

The maw twitched reflexively with every round that slammed into its brain, and with the last bullet from Grunt, fell forward. Grunt ran for the front of the mouth, leaping out and forward even as the maw slammed into the ground. He tumbled forward and away from the dead beast, and crawled to his feet some thirty yards away. Smoke from his assault still trickled out of the beast's mouth, and Grunt crossed back over to it, looking down at his fallen enemy. He looked over his skin and armor, both steaming from the acid that had slicked their surfaces.

The piston in the keystone retracted and locked into place at the top of the tower, its ancient purpose fulfilled. Urdnot Grunt raised his blood-drenched face into the harsh sunset light of Aralakh, and roared.


	34. Our Pasts and Futures

*****Author's Note****  
Hello again! I'd say I'm sorry for the delay in many, many words, but no amount of  
them would be able to impart how terrible I feel. I've been away for a couple  
months on government work, and not being able to work on FWAM itched at the  
back of my mind the whole time. But, that's all settled now, and I've got my fiancee  
playing ME1 now, since she's said she wants to know all the background before  
she keeps reading my work (I think she's two chapters into TDN, so nothing's ruined yet, I hope!)

Meanwhile, I'm back to the grindstone. As always, thank you all for the comments, likes,  
and follows, and I promise to be on a tighter schedule from here on out. We have about ten  
chapters and an epilogue yet in FWAM, then it's on to my ME3 retelling, which I'm hoping  
gets a better reception than the game's. :P  
A HUGE thank you to all of you who've kept me followed and stuck with the story, I _**will ****not**_  
disappoint you.

* * *

**Our Pasts and Futures  
**

If the harsh daylight hours were bad on Tuchanka, John thought to himself as they crossed the large expanse of rough, dusty plains laden with scrub grass and sparse vegetation, the nights were almost worse. It seemed as if the entire world had been quieted into some sort of hushed reverence for the three of them, trudging across its surface, coming home from battle. The only sound was the wind, whipping across the open ground, unimpeded by any mountains or structures for miles around, A fresh gust blew past the three of them, and Grunt breathed in deeply, exhaling with satisfaction.

"Do you smell it, Shepard?" he asked, passion tinging the question.

"Varren blood?" Garrus retorted, "Yea, of course we do; you practically took a bath in the stuff."

Grunt eyed the turian, but chuckled regardless, then turned to face John, walking backwards as he spoke. "No, do you smell Tuchanka?" He paused to take another breath before continuing. "The dirt, the metal, the blood, the flesh, all of it. I was wrong, Shepard. I saw this world for what it appeared to be; ruins and rubble. But now I can see it for what it is; a harsh land, the perfect home for a harsh people. The tank was my mother, the Normandy and her crew are my friends, but this..." He stopped then, looking back past John towards the way they'd come. "This is home."

"And **that** ," Garrus added sarcastically, "would probably be the welcome wagon."

Grunt and John stepped forward, cresting the top of a ridge they'd been scaling as they talked. Below, in a small canyon, stood Urdnot hold. Around the already-massive stone and steel structure, hundreds of housing facilities stood ramshackle in the eaves of the hold; the many tribes who'd joined forces with Wrex over the past months. Two large transports, their headlights cutting into the darkness of the Tuchankan night, sped away from the housing set-ups and roared up the small hill towards them. As they approached, they slowed, and a massive krogan stepped down from the passenger seat of one of them. As he stepped into the headlight beam, John recognized him as the krogan who'd met them at the shuttle bay, and nodded. The krogan returned the gesture, then turned to Grunt.

"Hours have passed, whelp, and you return visibly weary, and stained in blood."

"I come back victorious," Grunt growled, and the other krogan laughed.

"Good," came a gravelly voice from behind the other transport, and John's nerves settled a bit as Wrex stepped into the light. "Though we would have known it just to look at you. The rage in your eyes is concentrated, focused. You've finished the rite, pup." Wrex reached down to pull out a long, wicked knife that seemed to have seen neither an enemy's flesh or a whetstone in years. He drug the tip of the blade across his palm, opening up a small gash that trickled blood into his open palm. Wrex then offered the dagger to Grunt, who did the same. When he'd finished, Wrex took the blade, sheathed it, and clasped hands with Grunt. "Here," he said loudly, "in the presence of your _krantt_ and mine, on this the sacred ground we call home, under the watchful gaze of Aralakh, I pledge my clan to you, Grunt. Your enemies are mine, as mine are yours. So may it be until we both lie cold on the ground." Wrex tightened his grip, as did Grunt, until blood began to squeeze out from between their hands and slide down their wrists. Then Wrex pulled his head back, as did Grunt, acting solely on instinct. They both slammed their heads together at once, and a loud _crack_ echoed out across the plains.

The other krogan in attendance cheered and circled around Grunt, clapping him on the back and welcoming him into the fold. After a few moments, the festivities died down, and Wrex spoke again. "So, you want a ride back to the hold? You all look dead tired."

"No," Grunt said immediately, and everyone fell silent. "I'm finishing this journey the way I started it, on my own two feet, walking this slope."

Wrex laughed softly, a rumbling thunder trapped within his large krogan frame. "Good. Then we'll see you back home, brother." After a moment, they all climbed back in the transports and sped back down the hill. Grunt watched them go for a minute, then hefted his shotgun up once more and continued down the hill.

After a few seconds of silence, Garrus spoke. "You know, we could have taken the transport, Grunt. The trial's over."

"I know," the young krogan replied, "but it's the principle."

The turian chuckled, and John cracked a smile as he replied. "I can't say I've ever met a krogan who cared much for principle, much less stood on it."

Grunt stopped and turned to the turian, the darkness of the night only enhancing his glowing reptilian eyes as he extended his mauled and bleeding hand. When he spoke, it was uncharacteristically quiet. "Nice to meet you. I'm Urdnot Grunt."

The halls were almost as dark as it had been outside, and John ran his gloved hand idly along the rocky, uneven surface of the wall as he walked with Garrus toward their quarters. Every twenty or so feet, another luminescent sphere hung almost haphazardly from an outcropping, barely lighting the path below it, much less to either side. The walk had so far been in silence; Grunt had been pulled away by the shaman and other krogan the moment he'd stepped into the base, as word of his killing the thresher maw had preceded them. He almost shuddered in recollection of the beast, but contained himself. Still, almost in response to the gesture ungiven, Garrus cleared his throat softly and spoke.

"So, you alright, Shepard? I mean, just because...you know..."

"Yea," John exhaled the word, sounding more tired than he'd have liked to. "I know." He glanced over to see Garrus watching him out of the corner of his eye, and met the turian's gaze, smiling weakly. "I hope he never hears it, but Grunt's...enthusiasm...actually helped a lot."

The turian chuckled, nodding as they walked. "It did at that. I mean he didn't even balk, you'd have though they were offering free guns down its gullet or something." They both laughed quietly, continuing their journey down the winding passage. After a moment, it was John's turn to speak.

"How about you? We haven't really talked since the Citadel."

"Yea...I kept waiting for you to ask about what happened with Sidonis."

John shrugged. "It obviously meant a lot to you, but it was your business, I didn't want to pry."

Garrus chuckled again. "That's not the Shepard I know." He stayed quiet for a moment as they walked, then stopped and turned to face John fully. "I wanted...I can't even put words to it, Shepard. There was so much anger and pain. But I let him live. By all the spirits, sometimes I still don't know why, but I couldn't pull the trigger."

"Can he ever make up for it? Redeem himself in your eyes?" A long moment passed with Garrus looking off down the hallway.

"Hell, I don't know, Shepard. I had thought about that moment since the second I read his message on the storage locker wall. My team are probably rolling in their damn graves..." He shook his head. "But it was the call I made. I can only hope they'd have understood in my place."

John nodded. His friend was obviously still conflicted over the decision, but nothing he could say or do, especially right now, after the day's events, could help much. "For what its worth, I think you made the right call, Garrus."

Garrus nodded, meeting his gaze with a weary smile. "Had a feeling you'd say that."

The two of them continued down the hallway before coming to a stop at a large doorway. There was no door, just an unassuming archway seemingly carved out of the rock of the hallway they'd been walking down. The doorway opened into a round sort of living space, with curved seating lining the walls. There were several smaller archways in the far curve of the wall, each leading to, what John assumed, were his crew's sleeping quarters. In one of them, Tali stood silently, her white eyes glowing brightly in the darkness that surrounded her form. Her arms were folded across her chest, but she seemed to visibly relax the smallest bit at seeing them in the doorway.

"Right," Garrus said softly, "looks like no guesswork for you." John smiled, and Tali nodded to the door way to her left. Garrus nodded his thanks and stepped through, the darkness swallowing him up. John stood there a moment taking her in. Hours ago he'd been fighting one of the deadliest and most terrible beasts he'd ever encountered...twice. Days ago he'd been stopping a political assassination, and years ago...he'd died. How did she continue to care for him so much?

It was the bond, he supposed. She had attached herself to him on a level he didn't, and might never, fully understand. For all the pain and heartache it had caused her, she stood by him. He shook his head unconsciously as he thought about how he'd never be able to tell him how much it meant to him, then crossed the dark room to follow her through the archway and into the darkness of their room.

* * *

"Friends, brothers, and allies," Wrex began in a low and grim voice. "For the first time in more than a hundred years, we have called together this war council of clan Urdnot and its allies."

"We clan chiefs are honored to be a part of this alliance, Urdnot Wrex," began Gatatog Uvenk from the far side of the rectangular metal table they stood around, "but this should be a meeting of our clan's leadership only. This human does not belong at the table." Wrex chuckled, low and menacing.

"Shepard is a valuable ally for any species to have, and he will be instrumental in my battle plans. Besides saving my own hide on multiple occasions, he's the only creature in the galaxy to stand up to our true enemy and stop them in their tracks." He paused for a moment. "But if you think he doesn't belong here, Uvenk, feel free to denounce me and call for a blood feud on him and his. I promise you that clan Gatatog will be raising another to chief before nightfall." A low rumble, some murmuring, some laughing, went around the table, and after a moment of looking furtively around at his peers, Uvenk took a step back, nodding his assent.

John, who had locked eyes with the krogan since he'd made his objection, now let them wander around the rest of the table, memorizing names with faces. Wrex stood at the head of the table, then Jorgal Tarash to his left, Grundan Morsk, Nakmor Jrath, Uvenk at the opposite end of the table, Raik Vasikan, Ravanor Krahl, and Shepard himself rounding out the circle. _Seven krogan and one human_ , he thought to himself, _glad we're here for diplomatic reasons._

"Here," Wrex began as the room quieted, "is our enemy's stronghold." He tapped a few keys at his control panel, and a model of Weyrlock hold materialized in the space before them. "Guld knows we'll be coming; skirmishes between our forces have become more heated in the past months, but three days ago I pulled our forces back to the hold, to make ready for the assault, and in preparation for your arrival, Shepard."

John nodded as he continued to scan the model. "This is the model you sent to the Normandy for me to review. You're sure the base has no secondary entrances or exits; any way we could infiltrate?"

Wrex shook his giant head. "None. Guld is strong and fierce in combat, but he's not stupid. One entrance to the base is all he needs to defend. And with the numbers he's amassed...it won't be difficult for him to do so."

"Then we lure him out," growled Clan Jorgal's leader. Tarash's fist slammed down on the table top. John nodded absently. It was a wait-and-see approach, but he didn't have a better plan at the moment.

"A siege seems like the only option," Wrex mused aloud, "but it'll be exactly what he expects us to do." He paced back and forth across his end of the table. "And all the while he'll be throwing soldiers at us who are frothing to do whatever he tells them."

"A shame we must lose so many of our own," Chief Morsk said quietly, "even if for a cause as right as ours." The rest of the krogan chiefs nodded and grumbled in agreement as the room fell silent."

"Decimation unfortunate, risky to nascent regime based in togetherness. May have alternate solution." The salarian voice came from the space behind John, and as every krogan's head whipped toward it, Mordin materialized before them, hands already raised in surrender. Weapons were drawn and leveled at the salarian, and John acted instinctively, stepping between Mordin and the others. For the briefest of moments, he could see the outright surprise on the doctor's face as he stood between him and near death.

"What is this?!" Ravanor Krahl snarled, "Have your kind not done enough to our people, worm?!"

"Everyone calm down," John began, reaching out to the krogan.

"Calm? You wish us to be calm when the salarians once again sneak about our planet, sowing who knows what kind of chaos into our ranks?!" Raik Vasikan was practically spitting as he spoke.

Wrex quietly rounded the table, standing in front of John, who locked eyes with him. "He's one of yours, I take it?"

"Yes," John whispered, "but he's not-"

"-supposed to be here," Mordin finished for him, placing a hand on John's shoulder. Half-turning to look at the salarian earned John a knowing smile, and he slowly stepped out from between the two aliens. Unfazed, Mordin continued. "Not supposed to be here, certainly aware. Apologize for intrusion, clan chief, but have relevant information that could affect upcoming battle, thought it wise not to attempt...'direct route'...for fear of instant refusal" He finished with air quotes, and Wrex stood silent for a long moment before speaking.

"What information?" It was a demand, not a question, and the room fell silent, clan chiefs slowly lowering their weapons to listen to the alien.

Mordin took a deep breath. "Maelon, former student and colleague, taken captive by Weyrlock clan two standard months ago. Can only imagine torturous conditions, forced procedures, but believed alive. Could have access to sensitive material."

"What kind of material?" Wrex probed.

"The kind that could change minds," the salarian said matter-of-factly. He tapped his omni-tool, above which records sprang to life in orange light. "Analyzed scouting reports of supplies entering Weyrlock compound. Many chemicals a match for possible genophage treatment, but none stable."

"I don't follow," Wrex growled, "What do you mean by 'stable'. How the hell did you get our scouting reports, and what," he took a step towards the stoic salarian, "would you know of a cure for the genophage?"

If the room were silent before, it was as a tomb now, all eyes fixed on Mordin. He looked away for a moment, then sighed, resigned, and explained. "Mordin Solus, doctorate in genetic studies and bio-treatment. Senior adviser to salarian dalatrass on all matters scientific..." he trailed off, then nodded. "STG team leader for Tuchanka observation and administration division."

Around the room, John could see muscles tighten, rage boil beneath stone-faced exteriors. Wrex, for his part, kept a solemn face, but his voice was a cold whisper. "The alien who spearheaded the release of the genophage...That is a dangerous claim to make here, doctor Solus."

"Understand the risk," Mordin replied quietly, his eyes meeting Wrex's levelly. "Judged potential of information worthy of it."

Wrex nodded, clearly impressed by the salarian, then spoke again. "What does Maelon know? What have you figured out with all your sneaking?"

"Weyrlock Guld not trying to cure genophage," Mordin said at last. "Is instead trying to empower it."

"Empower it?" Wrex asked incredulously.

"Yes." Mordin replied. "Do not know why, but Maelon would. If Maelon can be retrieved, can surmise motives of Weyrlock clan chief."

Wrex stepped back from the salarian, pacing around the edge of the table. The other clan leaders had stowed their weapons, but the looks they continued to send Mordin's way spoke of the atrocities they held in their minds for him. "That's information I would like to know," Wrex said at last, "but it still doesn't help us in the battle."

"Ah, of course," Mordin replied, stepping up to the table console at the head of the table. "Here," he began. "Although Weyrlock clan presence proposed a potential problem, structure, previously served as STG testing center during mission on Tuchanka. Still krogan occupied, but secret installation created beneath structural foundation. Access and escape point here." The model rotated, and a small segment of the outer wall became highlighted in green. "Omni-tool communications link will open passage, allowing small team access to STG substructure."

"You mean to tell us," Jorgal Tarash hissed, "that your entire operation was based out of a headquarters beneath one of our own clan holds?"

"Yes," Mordin replied, seeming confused at the apparent lack of understanding. "Salarians very quiet when mission necessitates."

Tarash shook his head in disgust, while Wrex spoke. "So we can send a team into your old base. Why not send the rest of my force."

"Easily detected if all approaching singular point," Mordin replied. "Best tactic to send small team, establish illegitimate uplink to Weyrlock base service systems, override mechanical procedures."

"Hack their systems and jam the doors open for a frontal assault..." John thought aloud. Mordin turned to him, smiling.

"Precisely."

"Will that work?" Grundan Morsk spoke with hesitation. In the short debriefing Wrex had given him before the others had arrived, he'd told John that Morsk was usually a 'destroy things first, ask questions later' kind of krogan. It showed in his wariness.

"Dependent on complexity of systems, presence of obstacles, and skill of hacker," Mordin replied.

"Guld will know by now that you have off-worlders," Nakmor Jrath said. A staunch supporter of Wrex in all matters, Jrath was the essential right-hand man of the clan unification project; one of the few Wrex personally trusted. "Any defenses he has will be at their maximum strength."

"Clan Ravanor, and all other assembled here, can give you the time you need, human." Ravanor Krahl voice was a barely-discernable growl as his deep-set eyes locked with John's. "We will hold the siege until our last krogan." Around the table, fists met the tabletop as grunts of acknowledgment and agreement sounded out.

"That just leaves a skilled hacker," Uvenk added.

Wrex and John looked at each other immediately, thinking the exact same thing. A small smile played across the faces of both, and Wrex spoke first. "Clan chiefs, prepare your forces. The last clan war of krogan history begins at dawn."

All around John, the chamber thundered with the roars of bloodthirsty krogan.

* * *

Every hallway looked like the others, Garrus thought as he walked along the scarcely-lit corridor. He had asked one of Wrex's personal guard for directions to his destination, though he supposed it wouldn't be entirely unlikely that he'd been lied to as a joke. He shook his head as he walked, wondering if some kind of lizard joke would be in poor taste here. Try as he might to think of one, his brain kept cycling back to the task at hand. He hadn't been a war general, or a great leader of men. Even on Omega, he had seen himself as merely one of many, albeit the only one with Commander Shepard on his list of credentials. But they had made him their leader, and in accepting that he took on the good alongside the bad. This was definitely the bad.

It had been hard to get out of the surprisingly comfortable bed to walk these halls, to have this meeting. He'd stayed awake half the night staring at the ceiling above, Kasumi sleeping soundly in the bed across the room. He'd taken to falling asleep in chairs these days. She hadn't asked him to come to her bed yet, though neither had she disapproved of his sleeping arrangements now. He supposed she just liked having him there, a presence in the night assuring her things would be fine. If he were honest with himself, it comforted him to have her around as well. He couldn't say how. Surely some degree of it was the intimate nature of their relationship, but he wondered if a great deal of it wasn't also the idea of having someone around whom he knew wouldn't leave him. He had hesitated pushing the relationship further, out of the complete fear that she would decide against it, but how much longer could the tenuous romance they shared now last without a conversation?

He shook his head once more as the thoughts milled around his head yet again, and almost ran into the krogan standing in the hallway before he saw him and stopped short. "Oh, hey sorry."

"What's your business here, turian?" The krogan wore a full-face helmet, and so Garrus found himself trying to converse with two glowing yellow spheres in what was certainly one of the most difficult conversations he'd ever had.

"I...need to speak with your clan chief," he managed after a moment. The krogan said nothing, simply continued to stare at him. "It's about his son."

The krogan visibly tightened, his hands gripping his rifle tighter as he spoke. "Wait here." He turned, disappearing into the darkness of the room beyond. After a moment, he returned, waving Garrus to follow.

The pair entered into living quarters much like those the Normandy crew shared, a large central room with connecting smaller ones. Garrus was led through the main room filled with krogan, cleaning and inspecting their weapons for the battle to come, and directed through one of the offshoot rooms. He entered alone, his escort peeling off to return to the hallway. Garrus had expected trophies of war and battles past to adorn the room, but he simply saw the same amenities that were in his own. A long, wide opening carved out of the far wall served as a window out into the Tuchankan night, and in front of it stood, Garrus assumed, Krul's father. The krogan turned as Garrus entered. Long scars crossed his face and arms, and his eyes were appraising, sharp green orbs in the light tan of his rough skin.

"I know of you, turian." His voice was steel, hard and unrelenting, emotionless. "The news feeds after the Citadel reached even out here, to Tuchanka. You, the human Urdnot Wrex seems to bend an ear to, and the suited girl, the heroes of the Citadel they called you."

"I'd rather they hadn't, to be honest," Garrus replied, staying where he entered the room. "That reputation's brought me more pain than pleasure, I assure you."

The krogan nodded slowly. "Expectation is the burden of greatness. My father told me that the day I came home from the Rite." A small moment of silence passed between the two, then Morsk spoke again. "They tell me you have news of my son, Krul."

Garrus's chest constricted, his heart raced, and even after all this time, rage coursed through his veins at what they'd done to his friends, his family. "Yes, clan chief. If you have the time, I'll tell you the whole story." Morsk nodded, gesturing for Garrus to sit in the chair while he circled around the bed and sat there as well. Garrus began to relate the story of his team on Omega, their formation, their goal. He focused on Krul, how he'd met the krogan after coming to his aid in a fight against six batarians, how he'd looked out for and trained with every member of his team. How he'd given his life in the end to protect the only people he considered family on Omega. When he'd finished, the dark clouds of the evening had cleared away, and bright stars speckled the pitch black night into which Morsk once again stared. Garrus stood beside him, as they'd moved many times during the course of the tale, and when he was quiet at last, Morsk spoke after a long moment of reflection.

"Why did you tell me this story, Garrus Vakarian?" he asked in a low whisper. "Why did you bring my son's pain and death to me on the eve of the greatest battle I will ever fight?"

Garrus looked away from the stars to look at the krogan. "Because you deserved to know that whatever reason Krul had for being on Omega when he was...he gave every last shred of strength he had fighting his enemy. He died in battle, against hundreds of enemies, and he took countless numbers of them to the grave with him. He died protecting his friends, people of almost as many species as are on this whole planet right now. We were a brotherhood, a family, and he died protecting the only thing on that rock he could call his. I've lost a lot of friends in my short time in the universe, but Krul was one of the best. I wanted you to know before you went to war, that your son died a hero."

Morsk turned away from the window, his face a tumbling mask of rage, sadness, and pride. After a moment, he spoke quietly. "Krul and I had never agreed. We had fought for months before he left. I've always been of the mindset that the strength of our people is wasted on Tuchanka, warring with each other. I've believed that we should be out among the other races, striving to change our perception in the galaxy. The last thing Krul said to me, the night he left our world, was that he would not be a part of a clan who defended alien creatures. To know that he somehow found his own way to the path I would have had him walk alongside me..." A long moment passed, and Garrus turned back to the open wastes of the Tuchankan night, while beside him a krogan warred within himself. The silence seemed overwhelming, and as Garrus had decided to leave Morsk to his thoughts, the krogan spoke. "Thank you. I will never be able to say the things I wished to Krul, but I can hope that when he fell, he died knowing the affection I bore him as my son...I must be alone to grieve for my son before the battle tomorrow. But you have done my clan...and myself...a service. I will not forget it."

Garrus nodded to Morsk, clapping the krogan on his thick shoulder, and turned to leave. He passed unmolested through the main chamber, and back out into the dark hallway. For five, ten, fifteen minutes, he walked softly through the midnight hallways of the krogan base, his head swimming with the situation Morsk faced. So many conflicts unresolved, so much guesswork in how each other felt about the other as they lived their entire lives light-years apart. As he found his way down the corridor that lead to the Normandy crew's quarters, He heard the faint din of a lingering roar from the other side of the base. It was a single, pained noise in the night, and even being a turian, he could feel the sound's guttural meaning. It stopped him in his tracks, and as he listened, more and more voiced roared along with it, clan Grundan supporting, consoling, and honoring their chief in one of his darkest hours. After a long moment, the sounds died down, and Garrus crossed the threshold into the main chamber of their rooms, and crossed to the doorway of the room they shared.

There was no light, and he ignited his omni-tool, casting a dim, pale, orange light across the room's surfaces. She was still there, lying asleep on the bed, occupying only a third of it's size, intended originally for a krogan body. His gaze caught the chair next to it, then looked back to her. After a moment's decision, he stepped over to the bed, gently sitting down and reclining to stare up at the ceiling. His movements rustled her awake, and her half-open eyes seemed slightly surprised to see him beside her. The instant seemed forever; should he leave? Had his interaction with Morsk made him go too far? And then, in answer to all his questions, a small, sleepy smile grew on her face, and she reached out to him, drawing him nearer. He put his arms around her, and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I've...been stupid about this. About us."

"You're here now," she said softly. "That's what matters." Her words trailed off, and before he could reply, she had dozed off once more, lying sound asleep in the arms of a turian. He chuckled quietly, pulling her tighter and closing his own eyes, his pain beginning to melt away in the warmth of her embrace.

* * *

The caravan rumbled unsteadily across the rock-strewn plains of Tuchanka, under the burning morning sun. John looked up through the ventilation slots in the roof of the vehicle, packed tight with Wrex, Jrath, and the whole of the Normandy crew, into a blood-red sun, the eye of Aralakh bearing witness to the bloodshed to come. He looked forward, to Wrex and Jrath, and saw the blood smeared across their faces. The shaman had anointed them with the "mark of war" before they'd departed, hundreds of the roving machines racing across the expanse towards Weyrlock hold. Wrex, turning to look back at them, caught John's gaze and nodded. He was ready to fight, and he knew John's team would get their job done.

"Co-variable-dependent substrings with encryption verification, bi-lateral hot rings with fringe detection protocols, feedback distortion across all channels," Mordin's raised voice spoke to Tali, seated next to him, as they struggled to converse over the noise of the vehicle. She had been gone when John woke that morning, and had spent her waking hours since with Mordin, going over the encryption and defense programs that the krogan had used when he was last there with the STG. The words were a foreign language to John, but he smiled as he watched Tali nod along with everything the professor rattled off, tapping notes into her omni-tool as they conversed.

It was just as well she hadn't been there this morning, he'd had the dream again. He almost struggled now to think back to a time when he didn't have them, and although he was now somewhat content with them, it always surprised him when they evolved, when he was finally able to do something he hadn't been able to before, or when blurry items became clearer. The people, they were still unrecognizable, but he had seemed to have become proficient in the lights, although he still didn't know what they were for. Every time he opened himself up to one, it took him to another strange location, the ceiling's light structure different than the last. He couldn't make heads or tails of it, and he'd hesitated to tell anyone lest they think his nerves had begun to get the better of him, but they haunted him nonetheless, this puzzle he couldn't solve.

The comm system in the vehicle crackled to life, and a krogan voice burst into their cabin. " _Weyrlock forces engaged! They've got turrets and biotics assaulting the front line of rovers, as well as standing soldiers on the walls. The main gate looks half-open, and they're pouring out._ "

"He wants a fight, then," Wrex replied. "Any sign of Guld?"

" _No, clan chief, he must still be inside. They close the gate after each wave of fighters emerge._ "

Wrex nodded. "He knew we'd try to use a siege, he's going to make us bleed for it instead." He reached up, tapping the comm controls and patching into all the convoys. "This is it, friends. The war you've waited for is upon you. Take no prisoners, show no mercy; and don't expect to see any from the Weyrlock. This battle will unite us, or destroy us, but either way, it's worth the fight. Show them the fury of a united krogan!"

The rover skidded to a stop, and the hatch flow open on the side. Further away, near another convoy, John could see a pocket of earth erupt upwards, torn asunder by a biotic attack. Samara pushed her hands outward from the hatch, and a protective sphere covered them as they exited, bullets streaking off of the shield and flying into the skies above. They rushed out to join the other krogan, crouched behind their rovers and firing towards the enemy combatants entrenched near the Weyrlock hold gates. The battle plan had been given to all krogan in the morning, and so John could see coordinated attacks on the turrets and biotics atop the wall. While the Weyrlock had accounted for off-worlders on Wrex's side, they hadn't accounted for Samara, Jack, Miranda, and Jacob, who tore into the wall's occupants with a biotic onslaught. The minutes turned to hours, and when the last of the wall's defenders were killed or disabled, Wrex let out a massive roar, echoed by the other clan chiefs along the line. Together, they rushed from their positions, charging toward the base and engaging in combat with the enemy. Rifles were discarded in favor of hands, heads, and knees as the krogan attacked one another viciously, a sea of gigantic bodies crushing against each other in a single-purpose.

John, Mordin, and Tali sprinted around the outskirts of the fighting, weaving between battling pairs of enemies. As he ran, John could see his crew fighting as viciously as the krogan were; Grunt charging headlong into the biggest enemy he could find, Kasumi and Garrus with their backs to each other, firing round after round at those battling around them, Thane slipping in and out of sight, delivering killing strike after killing strike to unsuspecting foes. They saw their break in the line, and made for it, Mordin immediately tapping in entry sequences into his omni-tool.

A bloodthirsty roar bellowed out as a Weyrlock soldier barreled towards them. John rounded his assault rifle on it, the bullets skimming off of its shields as it continued rushing. It crashed into John, his cybernetics straining under the attack as they tumbled together towards the ground. The krogan came up on top, slamming fists downward as John desperately dodged them. He twisted his body and rammed an elbow into the creature's jaw with more strength than any human could muster, knocking the beast back off of him. He clambered to His feet as John rolled away, and Tali rushed forward to engage him. She dodged his array of punches and attempts to grab her, spinning and pulling her knife out of her boot in one smooth motion to slash at his knees. The sharpened blade bit into his flesh, severing tendons and causing him to drop to one knee. Keeping her momentum, Tali kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling onto his back, before leveling her shotgun at his face and pulling the trigger. The krogan twitched for a moment, then lay still, and she collapsed the weapon at the small of her back, wiping the blade of her knife on her exosuit before stashing it back in her boot. John got to his feet with a laugh. "Thanks, I owe you one."

"Many more than one," she said, her tone showing him the smile his eyes could not see.

"Access achieved," Mordin called out to them, "Must move quickly!" The secret door slid open, and the three of them rushed inside, closing it behind them. Tali turned immediately, her omni-tool firing to life as she scrambled Mordin's access codes and installed a few protocols of her own to keep anyone else out.

"It will take them four days to break that code," she said as they moved forward. "Let's try not to still be here then."

"Deal," John replied. "Mordin, lead on."

Mordin wove them through a series of tunnels and corridors, seemingly carved out of the rock, but lined with dust-covered terminals and metal tables. He spoke quietly as they moved. "STG based operations and data collection projects out of this site, many salarians hidden here, just beneath krogan. Many meetings to determine risk versus reward for basing operations so close to test subjects, but decision eventually made to go through with plan."

"So the Weyrlock were your testing grounds before the wide release of the genophage?" Tali whispered as they continued.

"Yes, introduced trace amounts into local water supply, collected tissue samples from clinical wing waste traps, analyzed procedural impact of genophage release in controlled population. Once desired results achieved, widespread release authorized."

"And you were just fine with watching an entire group of people reproductively degrade right in front of you?" John asked. A long silence hung as they kept moving, and Mordin finally answered.

"Morality not a factor in decisions. Saw krogan after Rachni Wars, threat to galaxy, overpopulation and planetary expansion not only possible, but inevitable, every model proved positive. Krogan over-presence in universe led to unstable war-state of galaxy." He paused as they followed the corridor, then replied quietly, almost to himself. "Genophage only option."

They rounded a corner, and came upon a ramshackle terminal, seemingly constructed in haste, with wiring poking out from the back. "That's our uplink?" Tali asked skeptically.

"Yes," Mordin replied, "was hard wired into local network on sub-standard frequencies, with trace-killers on each connections. Enabled us to monitor communications and surveillance systems undetected. Should still be operational."

"If you say so." She stepped forward, firing up her omni-tool again and interfacing with the console. While she worked, John looked around the derelict room, clearly left in haste.

"So what happened here, in the end?"

Mordin sighed as he looked over the room as well. "STG team discovered while dispersing one of final releases of genophage. Received distress call while they attempted to escape...heard their deaths. Reports came back to Weyrlock base, krogan began to sweep compound. Team fled under cover of darkness...lost many to krogan scouts. Dropship in remote wastes recovered rest of team...was disaster, Shepard. Had never experienced such a casualty rate before."

"I'm sorry, Mordin. I...didn't mean to make you relive that."

"Apologies not necessary, Shepard. For many years after mission, spent many nights wondering about validity of mission. Every diagnostic confirmed, every test concluded in favor of genophage. Still, lives lost, both krogan and salarian...sometimes difficult to see value of work against such numbers." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them and touching the edge of a table gingerly. "Good to remember the past, understand what was important then, and what is important now."

"It sounds like you don't quite believe as deeply as you used to in the work you did here," John offered.

Mordin shook his head slowly. "Was necessary. Have to believe was necessary. Otherwise all work, all deaths, pointless...pointless...Besides, genophage a fact of galactic history. Mission complete, deemed a success...personal opinion no longer relevant, does not change outcome."

"I've got it," Tali called from the console, and the two of them turned back to regroup with her. "I have local access to all systems, including the doors. Contact Wrex, let him know we're through."

John nodded, tapping into his omni-tool and hailing Wrex, who answered amidst a din of roaring and crashing bodies. "Wrex, Tail's in the system, she's jamming the doors now."

"We'll take the base," the krogan yelled in reply. "Meet us inside, and we'll take care of Guld." The comm cut out, and John turned back to Tali as she tapped in a final sequence.

"I've patched all system controls over to my omni-tool to update with the fight, but that will keep it open, unless they have a captive quarian as well."

"Unlikely," Mordin replied. "Maelon will be in clinical wing, can access it from further tunnels." He turned to move down another corridor, and John and Tali followed in his wake.

* * *

The harsh sun rained heat down upon the imposing and now blood-drenched figure of Urdnot Wrex. All around, his mind took in the din, the chaos, the smoke, blood, and roaring. This was war; it was his birthright, it was what he had been made for. He looked to his right, where clan Ravanor ripped into the Weyrlock troops like a varren into a fresh piece of meat. To his left, the whelp took on three enemies at once. He smiled at that; his decision to bring Grunt into the fold had not been without its dissenters, but as with the rest of his leadership choices lately, he had been right to choose the path he did. Tank-bred or not, Grunt made an excellent addition to the clan.

Shepard had told him the quarian had jammed the gates, and sure enough they stood wide open now, and his forces were close enough that he could see Weyrlock's engineers panicking on the other side to get them closed again. They would have no such luck. Wrex had witnessed first-hand the girl's skill with computers, and he was sure that having her hack them had done more damage than ripping the door off of its tracks. He had bellowed the collapse order once they had locked up, and true to their word, every clan that had stood for him at the crush rushed forward, forcing Weyrlock krogan back and back, until the entire battle became one convoluted bulge outside the front gate.

Wrex roared again, and the clan chiefs along with him, and his forces pushed forward, rushing into Weyrlock hold, but stopping just inside. The great antechamber was an open space, sky above, ringed by level after level of living quarters and other facilities. Weyrlock Guld stood at the head of his remaining forces, across the large expanse of the chamber, and he called out as Wrex stepped forward.

"Of course they all follow you! Only you would be so stupid, to lead them all to this much slaughter of their own kind."

"You could have faced me at the crush, Guld." Wrex shot back, stepping forward aggressively. "You could have come yourself and challenged me, to keep our numbers strong. You could have come out this day, the moment we arrived, and we could have settled this as our fathers did, and their fathers before them. Instead you ignored the call to crush, you sent assassins to my call for a united people, and you hid here behind your walls, letting your own kind die to keep you safe like some cowardly turian general, always keeping the battle away from himself."

"Oh come on," Garrus's voice came quietly from behind him, "I'm **right** here..." Wrex smiled internally at his friend's offense, but externally his face was a stone slab.

"You call me coward in my own home! You claim I try to destroy us! **You** will end the krogan, Urdnot Wrex, with your dreams of the stars. Our home is here, our future is here, not out aiding the aliens who abandoned and poisoned us after we saved them from the rachni. And I will remind every krogan here of that again once you lie cold on the ground. You will have no honor in death, just as you have none now. Your flesh will feed the varren, and your bones will bleach in the sun for generations to come, as your home forsakes your body, just as you would forsake hers."

"Our enemies are greater than each other, Guld. But you won't see it. I'll have the krogan unified and ready to fight the true enemy. And I'd promise you the same about your corpse, but there wont be enough left of you to feed the varren by the time I'm finished."

"Then bring your army, whelp! I'll show you the strength of one fit to lead our people!"

Wrex roared and charged at Guld, the rest of his forces following him. They both hurled biotic attacks at each other before closing to bloody fists and horrendous gashes. Around him, they all fought just as fiercely. In the next few minutes, he realized with a rush, he would either have accomplished every goal he set out to achieve since leaving the Normandy those years ago, or bleed out into the soil of Tuchanka.

He roared again as the blood flowed. This was his birthright. It was what he was made for.

* * *

The door slid open, and John moved right while Tali moved left, sweeping into yet another empty medical room. Below them, several floors down, the small silence had erupted once more into the frenzy of battle. Wrex had found Guld, John decided, and their time was running out. They crossed quickly through this, the third medical bay they'd encountered, each one littered with the bodies of test subjects. At first, Mordin had studied the readouts at each bed, before eventually giving up in disgust as each one proved his information correct. Guld had been taking prisoners from each clan, looking through their DNA, trying to find a difference he could exploit. He wasn't trying to improve the genophage, Mordin had told them, he was trying to focus it. On every krogan clan but his own.

"Makes sense in theory," he mumbled in disbelief as they made their way past corpse after corpse. "clans breed within, with females from that clan. Only DNA exchange would be during crush ritual, where females can be traded between clans. Weyrlock absent from crushes for the past decades."

"But this plan couldn't have been in place since then," John noted, "they needed Maelon to refine the genophage, and a few decades wouldn't be enough time for genetic abnormalities to develop."

"Correct," Mordin agreed. "Probable theory is that Weyrlock trying to distill genetic line to try to eliminate genophage naturally. By continuing same strand of DNA, possibility arises to mutate away from genophage sequencing."

"So they were hoping for a needle in a haystack...but when Maelon came along..."

"Need to hopefully wait vanished," the salarian concluded grimly.

"This one is heavily encrypted," Tali called from ahead. "Whatever is behind here, it's important."

She tapped the last few strokes in on her omni-tool, and the door slid open. It was a small room, comprised of a disheveled bed and a single terminal. At the terminal, hunched over its controls, sat a salarian. His head turned fearfully as they entered, and his eyes went wide. All around his face, signs of abuse and torture showed.

"Maelon!" Mordin yelled, holstering his pistol and rushing over to the younger salarian. "Severe lesions, burn marks, laser scoring, torture?!"

"Yes," Maelon replied weakly. "I'm...I'm sorry, doctor Solus. I tried to come back in secret, tried to undo the havoc we wreaked on the krogan...but they found me. They kept me here...tortured me...said that once the other krogan were wiped out...they'd let me go."

"Unlikely," Mordin said, scanning Maelon with his omni-tool and administering basic first aid. "Krogan unwelcoming to salarians, Weyrlock easily worst of all."

"I knew it was a lie," he replied, coughing viciously at the end. "So I stalled as much as I could. It's not ready, but almost. If you hadn't gotten here when you did..."

"It's alright, Maelon," John said, "we're getting you out of here, and the other clans are handling the Weyrlock."

"That's almost as bad..." he whispered. After a long pause, sobbing began to overtake him, and he reached up weakly to grab Mordin's coat. "Don't you see what we did to them, doctor Solus? This hatred, this violence, this distrust...this is everything we said would happen if we didn't release it, if we didn't afflict them. It may just be confined to Tuchanka right now, and the few krogan who escape the planet...but they'll kill each other...we've doomed their species hundreds of times faster than if we'd have let them live unblemished."

"Was...was necessary, Malon. Every study showed..."

"Damn the studies!" Maelon exclaimed. "This is worse! It's a million times worse! We could have protected the galaxy, the Council could have stopped any aggression...but we've changed everything they are...we killed what the krogan were and made them this...monster. We...we have to find a way to undo it, doctor Solus. You taught me to act in the best interests of the patient, always and without exception. We...we wronged the krogan, and we had no right...please...please help me fix...our mistake." He collapsed forward, and Mordin caught him, carrying him over to the bed and laying him down. "We...we have to..." he whispered. Mordin looked to John, his eyes meeting the human's for a long time. Then at last, he nodded solemnly, and leaned back down to help Maelon.

"Will help you, Maelon. Will correct our mistake."

"Maelon," Tali ventured, stepping closer. "You said Weyrlock Guld himself ordered you to hone the genophage."

"Yes..." he replied weakly, barely sitting up to look at her, "right here in this room."

"Then maybe I can..." she flicked and tapped through her omni-tool controls, searching through security and surveillance logs. "Yes! Here it is!" She tapped a few keys, and Guld's voice projected from her omni-tool.

" _Come back to ensure your job is done, have you? Well, allow me to change your mission parameters._ " In the background, Maelon could be heard screaming as the loud thuds of a beating gave proof to his scars. " _You will work on the genophage, but you will hone it. I will give you samples from all the clans, and you will tool our weakness to intensify in the bodies of my enemies. Once they wither and die before my clan's feet, then...I'll release you, salarian. Think on my offer, I'll leave these two here to...explain it further..._ " More screaming could be heard before the audio clip cut out.

"If we can get that to where they're fighting..." John thought aloud, "Guld's people would never support him knowing he'd given that order."

"Are you sure it would be enough to change their minds?" Tali asked.

"Positive. If I learned anything from those long talks with Wrex on the SR-1, it's that the krogans would never abide trying to harness the genophage to use on other krogans again, not from any alien, and certainly not from one of your own. But how can we-"

"Way ahead of you," she replied, tapping furiously on her interface. "Watch me stop a battle in two seconds."

* * *

Wrex hurled Guld to the ground, backwards and away into his own people. The other leader was on his feet in an instant, another krogan beside him helping him. Wrex had recognized Weyrlock Vorn's face as they'd met here. The only son of Guld not snuffed out by the genophage, the unwanted son, who did not always adhere to his father's doctrines. Vorn had been Wrex's only way of contacting clan Weyrlock over the past months, and though the krogan was sound of mind, he stuck with his clan in this fight. Wrex could respect that. Guld ripped his arm away from his son before shoving him back into the throng of krogan with a curse. He prepared for the other krogan's assault, blood streaming down his face, but at Guld's first step, his ear was pierced by the static hiss of a comm channel. He cursed to himself, he'd closed his eyes, Guld had all the opening he needed. But when Wrex opened his eyes again, Guld stood holding the side of his helmet as well, and as Wrex looked around, all the other krogan had stopped to wrench at the sides of their helmets. Just as he was about to remove the damned thing and continue the fight, the unmistakeable voice of Weyrlock Guld flooded his hearing, joined with the background sounds of what sounded like an incredible beating.

" _Come back to ensure your job is done, have you? Well, allow me to change your mission parameters._ _You will work on the genophage, but you will hone it. I will give you samples from all the clans, and you will tool our weakness to intensify in the bodies of my enemies. Once they wither and die before my clan's feet, then...I'll release you, salarian. Think on my offer, I'll leave these two here to...explain it further..._ "

After a few seconds, the audio repeated. Then it repeated again, and again. A long scowl grew on Wrex's face as he realized what Tali had found and what she'd done with it. He did rip off his helmet then, throwing it at Guld, who smacked it away, but catching the attention of all krogan, as the battle had come to a standstill.

"The genophage! You would turn our greatest and shared weakness against us once again! You would betray us all to that plague once more, so that you could play king?!"

Around Guld, the mood shifted, as Weyrlock faces turned from confusion, to outright disgust, to rage. They looked to their leader for some sliver of hope, some sign that all was not as it seemed, and had been blatantly proven to them. For a moment, Wrex pitied them. No, he realized, he **did** pity them. They followed their clan chief, as any krogan should, it was Guld that led them astray with false promises. His rage intensified as Guld spat his words.

"I sought to protect my clan! I sought to give us the rule we deserved! Ours is better than all of your mongrel clans put together; my people know it, as I know it! The genophage is our curse, I would make it our weapon! Fit to strike at those who oppose us, including **you** , whelp!" A rumble of dissent spread through the Weyrlock ranks, and here and there one of them holstered a weapon. Others stood fast, but only one moved. From the corner of the field, Weyrlock Vorn crossed the battlefield to stand in front of his father.

"You..." he began breathlessly, and Wrex watched as his face drew on the rage within. He remembered making that face at his own father, the atrocities he'd committed coming back to haunt him. "You are not the leader of this clan. You cannot speak for us. A true leader would not take his people down this road. A true **krogan** would never fathom it."

"Silence!" Guld yelled, swinging a fist at his son. Vorn dodged it expertly, drawing his blade and slamming it home in the gap in the plating between the armpit and the chestplate. Guld gasped as his organs were pierced, and Vorn wasted no time, removing the blade and ramming it into Guld's throat. Ripping it out rewarded him with a spray of blood, and Guld collapsed onto his back, beginning to choke on his own blood. Vorn turned to look over the Weyrlock clan, none of whom moved to oppose his decision and claim. After a moment, the only sounds being the gasping and gurgling of Guld on the ground, he locked eyes with Wrex, and spoke aloud to his dying father.

"You will have no honor in death, just as you have none now. Your flesh will feed the varren, and your bones will bleach in the sun for generations to come, as your home forsakes your body, just as you would forsake hers. A traitor's end, as you yourself decreed." He lifted his foot, slamming it down to crush Guld's throat. The krogan lay lifeless, blood pooling around him, and Vorn reached down, retrieving a small metal disk from his father's armor. Crossing to Wrex, he took a dagger from his belt, slashed his palm, and dripped his own blood over the medallion. "I am Weyrlock Vorn, chief of clan Weyrlock. Through my father's leadership, our clan has slighted the very essence of the krogan people. Here, at this gathering of all clans, we forfeit our claims in recompense and, should you have us, agree to your alliance of clans, Urdnot Wrex." He held the disk out to Wrex, who nodded and took it from him, holding it high and bellowing.

"The debts of clan Weyrlock rest squarely on Weyrlock Guld's shoulders, and they die with him. We accept Weyrlock Vorn into our council, and his clan as well. We are the krogan of Tuchanka, and we are one!"

The battlecry that emerged from all krogan in attendance ripped across the plains, sundered the heavens, and shook the very world itself.

* * *

Daylight faded as the wounded made their way back to Urdnot hold in the rovers, the Weyrlock clan's added to the caravan. John stood beside one of the last still at the hold, looking out over the rugged landscape as night began to fall.

"Varren will be out soon," Wrex commented as he approached.

"Yea," John said, nodding. "You know, it's really not such a bad place. Beautiful at sunset, almost."

Wrex's laugh was a deep one that belied how tired he must have been. "Careful, Shepard, or we'll end up building you a place here."

John laughed, turning to face his friend, who extended a hand. He took it.

"I couldn't have done this without you, Shepard."

"Well, Mordin and Tali mostly," he replied.

"No, you. You inspired all of this. And even after facing down death itself, you came when I called for help. You're a true friend, Shepard. Krogan don't have many of those.

"Thanks, Wrex. There will be a day soon when I'll need your help."

"I know. They're coming, but we'll be ready. I'll make sure of it." A long moment passed and he spoke again. "Mordin's friend, how is he?"

John shook his head. "It wasn't pretty. But we've got the best doctors back at the Normandy, and Mordin won't leave his side." He stared at the trailing rovers for a long moment. "Mordin says he's going to reverse the genophage."

Wrex let it sink in for a moment before replying. "Well, that's something I didn't expect to hear. I suppose if anyone could do it, it's the two of them. I'll believe it when I see it, though, and I've got bigger things to worry about at the moment."

"Bigger than the restoration of your species?"

Wrex laughed again. "Yea. Shepard, have **you** ever tried getting a handful of krogan clans to get along?"

John smiled. "No, I suppose I haven't.

The krogan gestured to the rover, the last to leave, and they both climbed inside. "I'll tell you my favorite solution," Wrex said as the engine kicked on. "A massive celebration." He laughed again as their rover tore off across the plains, leaving the empty Weyrlock hold a dark silhouette against the falling Tuchankan night.


	35. The Power of Thought

*****Author's Note****  
Here we go again. I'm working myself into a quicker turnaround on these,  
so we can get to the good parts! :P This one is mainly a lot of setup for  
the next (and second-to-last!) loyalty mission chapter, as we start to crest  
that hill that will take us to the heroic end. Enjoy!

* * *

**The Power of Thought  
**

Runtime 605 analyzed data packet after data packet as they flooded in from the sensor controlled by another geth cluster. Their merging process had continued, condensing their numbers lower and lower, while increasing the complexity of those remaining many times over. The result of this process was the arrangement of the four clusters that now controlled all operations of the platform. 605, renamed Up, controlled data processing and the internal systems of the platform. Left controlled the optical and aural sensors, sending the processed data back to Up. Right controlled the platforms physical attributes, as was currently demonstrated by its continuing grip with both arms and legs onto the long metal rafter upon which they now perched. Lasty, Down controlled data archive and retrieval processes, and was the geth to whom Up would pass on data once it had analyzed them. It was all so efficient.

" _Results of latest post-clustering diagnostics compiled,_ " Down sent to the other three as it received Up's report. " _Each super-cluster should now experience a 365.8% spike in efficiency and complexity. Stand by for further data merging sequences._ "

Its processes complete, Up began to experiment with that new-found complexity. With each passing merge, its computing power and memory allotment increased exponentially, allow more complex algorithms to coalesce. Up began reviewing their mission parameters. It had been unfortunate that they'd arrived too late to find Shepard-Commander on Alchea, but Up had never been certain he was deceased. There was no body, no remains, no internal human fluids that could have identified an impact of any kind. The decision had been reached by the collective, but statistically Shepard-Commander could still be out there...somewhere...

" _Up, we require use of all four limbs to maintain platform stability, requesting control of apparatus,"_ Right sent to Up, and the geth cluster realized suddenly that it had taken control of the platform's right arm, the fingers of which had been touching the N7 patchwork field repair they had done after Eden Prime. Immediately, Up released control, which was taken away by Right to re-steady the arm on the beam. Up's processes stalled as it tried to decide how that had happened. It's backlogs clearly showed the control request, but it processing cloud did not make the request...the paradox baffled Up, and soon it simply pushed the situation away, unwilling to devote more memory to it.

Up pulled in the data stream from Left, controlling the platform's optical sensor, which swept across the scene below them. The humans were in disarray, some shuffling aimlessly along the railing corridors, others still crouched in corners, grasping their head and rocking back and forth, while others still lay impaled on the Old Machines' conversion spikes. They had walked themselves over and laid across them, dozens of programs lining themselves up for deletion while their functionality could still be used. It was illogical, but Up had come to realize that the Old Machines could touch the humans' minds in a way they could not touch the geth, twisting ans converting them. It was a viral corruption, and the geth above had watched and analyzed as it had infected all of the humans below.

Up's processing stream was interrupted by the beginning of the merge sequence code filtering across its memory cloud. It opened its data stores to the code, which quickly flooded with all of the processing data, runtimes, and geth presences that comprised Left. In an instant, Up's capacity and complexity exploded higher, and it found itself in full control of the optical and aural sensors.

" _Merge process complete, compiling diagnostic tools now,_ " Down sent. There were only two of them now, two massively complex super-clusters inhabiting the entirety of the platform.

The platform's FTL comm systems picked up another incoming transmission toward the humans below. Up captured the signal, as it had done with each one before it, but held it for a moment as itcontinued to process the data from the optical sensor. A total of twenty-six communications bursts had come to the Old Machine in the time since the humans had arrived, and Up had stopped every one. It was the geth's hope that the humans would assume the worst, which was in this case the truth, and stop sending more of their people. But the messages kept coming, and so did the humans. Reluctantly, Up released the communication, and sent back all of the missed responses, including those made while the humans there had been in the throes of the Old Machines' conversion. If radio silence wouldn't convince them to stay away, Up decided, perhaps the truth would.

* * *

The Illusive Man sat quietly in the quiet room, his back pressed firmly against the soft velvet cushion of the chair. Around him, he surveyed the room again. Red carpeting, wooden furniture, not an ounce of steel or technology to be seen anywhere, save for the dresser he'd placed his omni-tool chip on when he'd entered. Few people had ever seen this room, but those who did had called it a tribute to luxury, a reminder of the old in the age of the new. As he looked across its many surfaces, he sighed aloud, allowing the weight to fall off of his shoulders for just a moment. He felt as Atlas, shouldering the great purpose that was Cerberus. Lately though, the organizations tectonic plates had begun to shift dramatically. He swirled the golden whiskey in his glass as he involuntarily reflected once more. No word from the Mnemosyne team, which was bad enough, no contact from Shepard in a long enough time to put him on edge, this Voice of Truth character still with seemingly uncanny hacking skills...He was sure by now that the Voice of Truth had to be multiple people, with the speed and efficiency that they were able to hack into and adapt to his security measures, not even the greatest quarian or salarian could move that fast. Then again, when their competition was Kashon...

His fingers burned suddenly, and he dropped the burned-down cigar out of his hands with a soft curse. It tumbled to the floor, and began to singe a hole in the soft red carpet. Shaking his head, he bent to pick it up, and placed it into the bronzed ash tray on the table beside him. Kashon...the man was seemingly incapable of stopping the Voice, though he was trying. And even outside of this particular situation, he was as good an operative as any. Still, the man needed to learn some tact. His eyes found the door to the room, on the other side of which he knew he would find a datapad or two waiting for him with updates about Ascendancy. He had been so sure of himself when forming the operation not that long ago...and while he still believed in humanity as a superior species, was this the way he wanted to achieve it? Conquering and enslaving the other races...was that really so much different than what the Reapers were attempting. His head ached at the thought of them, and he gritted his teeth, feeling the slick oil of their presence in the back of his mind. He reached over, taking a small mirror from an opposite table, and holding it up to his face.

The years had not been kind to him, he thought with the slightest bit of vanity as he looked as the slightly sagging cheekbones, the slowly wrinkling skin, the gray in his hair. Then the eyes. He glowered at himself. It had been necessary, all knowledge came with a price. He could feel the Reapers, he could sense their presence millions of light-years away, but they fought to invade his mind, to turn him. He would never let them. He would sooner open the airlock and be swept into oblivion than allow them to use him, control him.

"I'll die first, you bastards," he whispered to no one, setting the glass back down on the table and standing to pace the room. He stepped back and forth across its short space, his steps muffled into silence by the wine-red carpeting. That was his conundrum. He wanted humanity to stand strong against the Reapers, he knew they were coming, but he needed the alien races as well...did Cerberus really have time to execute their plans, gain dominance, and stand against the Reapers? Even now, he could feel their slow approach, he could see the mental clock ticking on their arrival. He shook his head again, not liking the conclusions he was coming to. He crossed to the door, opening it to be greeted to Kashon's startled face, his hand raised and about to knock on the door.  
"S-Sir," he spurted, "I had come to let you know, we've received communications back from the Mnemosyne team."

"And?" the Illusive Man demanded, stepping past the man and closing the door behind him. Kashon quick-stepped to fall in beside him, handing him the datapad he had been carrying.

"It's not good, sir."

He looked over the transcripts, his eyes narrowing as he read the messages that slowly devolved into gibberish over time. After a moment, he thrust the datapad back into Kashon's hands. "Get me Shepard."

* * *

"Then, this human has the quad enough to pull a gun on me." The krogan around Wrex laughed aloud in approval as Wrex told the tale. They sat on stone benches, arranged in a circle around a blazing fire pit. Around them, for hundreds of yards in every direction, similar setups marked the landscape, thousands of krogan united in one massive celebration of that very fact. In the distance, John could hear the pounding of drums and rhythmic music, and any time one of the krogan's cups showed signs of running empty, one of the Weyrlock krogan gladly filled it up. This had been Weyrlock Vorn's decision, a peace offering of sorts to facilitate the celebration. To his credit, Wrex had vehemently protested, making the point again that Weyrlock's wrongs died with Guld, but Vorn insisted, and at last the Great Chief, as they were now calling him, relented and allowed it. They were not treated as servants, to John's surprise and pleasure; each time a cup was filled, the receiving krogan would slap the Weyrlock krogan's shoulder in thanks, as if to say 'I could have gotten that, but thanks for taking care of me.' It was an odd thing to see, but the Weyrlock seemed happy to make amends, and so John was happy to allow them. He returned his attention to the story as Wrex continued. "...and the human girl walks right up next to him. She was the fire of Aralakh itself, Shepard. I was sure she'd take the shot if we'd hesitated any longer."

"Yea," John commented, taking a sip from his cup. "Ashley wasn't your best friend that day, I'll give her that." He'd had the stores of human-safe alcohol brought off the ship for the Normandy crew, specialists and enlisted men and women alike had shore leave tonight.

Nakmor Jrath, at Wrex's right hand, spoke up after taking a long drink. "Where is this fiery human tonight? I should like to shake hands with a female brave enough to point a gun at Urdnot Wrex and survive!" John and Wrex's eyes locked, reliving that moment, that call he'd made, together. He could feel Tali's hand on his thigh, tightening in support, and he faced Jrath directly.

"She died that day on Virmire, gave her life to defend us while we set up the nuke that destroyed Saren's facility."

"Without her," Wrex added, "We wouldn't have been able to destroy that abomination."

A silence fell on the gathered group then, pierced only by the rhythmic drums in the distance. After a long moment, Jrath nodded, then stood, raising his cup. All the other krogan around the circle, Wrex included, followed his lead as he spoke the harsh native tongue of Tuchanka, which John's translator could not decipher. " _Kord graant, mak trassk._ " The phrase was echoed by all present, and as John looked around he could see that a few krogan in adjacent circles had seen the demonstration and joined in, despite not knowing for whom it was performed. Seeing John and Tali's confusion, Wrex translated aloud.

"It's the old tongue, Shepard. Means 'Live selflessly, die immortal.'"

John nodded, raising his glass to join them. After a few more minutes, the crowd dispersed, the hangers-on going to visit other fires, and Wrex himself leaving to convene individually with other clan chiefs. Soon, John and Tali sat alone by the roaring fire, and he put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he spoke. "So...some shore leave, huh? Derelict planet full of bloodthirsty krogan, spending our moonless, pitch-black night sitting by a bonfire." He smiled as he gazed into her glowing eyes. "I sure know how to pick 'em."

She laughed, leaning into him more. "It's alright, I'm just happy having some time to ourselves. _Keelah_ , it seems like all I've been able to think about lately are drive-core readouts and power fluctuations." She paused for a moment, placing her hand lovingly on his chest. "And I can't remember the last time I didn't wake up alone...are you still having nightmares?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't call them nightmares...just...very confusing dreams. Still, they don't let me sleep very often, you're right. Add the weight of the mission on top of that and...well it's a cocktail for some sleepless nights, for sure." A long moment passed between them, and she spoke again.

"What do you think it will be like when this is all over? I mean, the Collectors, the Reapers...do you think we'll be able to live a normal life? _Keelah_ , John, we take out one rogue Spectre and the entire galaxy knows our names, how will it be after we save the whole damned place again?"

"Tali," he soothed her, holding her close. "Whether I have to disable every geth in the galaxy, or colonize a new world, I will get your people a home again. And if they'll take me, I'll be happy to hide out there for the rest of our lives. The Reapers aren't even here yet and I'm already tired of war and politics. I'd take it as a kindness if the galaxy could one day just forget about Commander Shepard altogether."

She laughed softly. "And you'd really want to spend your last years on some war-ravaged planet that needs rebuilding, the only human on a world full of quarians?"

"No," he said, taking her hands in his own. "I want to spend my last years with you, Tali. I don't care where they are, as long as you're there."

"Damn this suit," she mumbled, squeezing his hands, rubbing them with her thumbs. "I want to be able to show you how I feel...and...it might not actually be that long until I can..."

"Wait, what?" he said, taken aback. She tilted her head in that familiar smile.

"I've...been doing some research, John. I still want to find a way to adapt, to make this work. If...you still want to, that is."

"Of course I want to, Tali. I just don't want you to get hurt, especially with the things we're having to do to fight the Reapers."

" _Keelah_ , John, forget about the war for one second. I've looked a previous records of accidental exposure around other species. The illnesses range from mild to severe, but never traumatic."

"And how many of those records are specifically for human contact?"

She hesitated. "None of them." He shook his head, but she squeezed his hands again. "John, whether we try this now or twenty years from now when this war is over, the risks are the exact same. I won't die without you feeling how much I love you, I won't. And with the missions we take on, every day we're alive is another statistical anomaly. Enough people are calling this a suicide mission that it's implication isn't lost on me. Look at me." He raised his eyes back to her own, those burning-white almond shapes behind her visor. "I love you, John. I want to be with you before we finish this, don't you want that too?"

His hand reached up to touch the side of her face, and she covered it with her own, staring into his eyes as the fire raged in front of them. After a moment, he smiled, nodding slightly. "Of course I do. More than anything. I'm just afraid for you, is all."

"Oh no," she whispered mockingly towards him as she stood up from the stone bench. "Reapers and geth and mercenary gangs, and the great Commander Shepard doesn't bat an eye. But one little quarian girl wants to take her suit off for him," she paused as she stradled his legs, sitting down on his lap to face him, her visor inches from his own face, "and he's just terrified."

He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her even closer, earning a soft moan from her. "That may be," he whispered. "But I didn't make a name for myself without...conquering a few fears in my time..." He leaned into her, kissing her neck while her strong legs squeezed around him. After a few moments of bliss, he pulled back to look her in the eye. "I love you too, Tali."

"I know." Their loving stare was broken by John's omni-tool chiming, and Tali moved to the side so that he could take the transmission.

" _Shepard,_ " EDI's voice rang out, " _I have an incoming transmission for you in the conference_ _room, it is tagged as Priority One._ "

"I'll be right there, thanks EDI." He looked over to the wonderful girl next to him, who made all of the fighting, the sweating, and the bleeding worth it a thousand times over. "Duty calls."

She tilted her head in a smile. "Go find out how we save the galaxy this time, _saera._ I'll round up the others."

* * *

"So...we're really doing this?" Garrus asked, securing his helmet as the airlock began to hiss. John shook his head as he examined his weapon, trying his best not to completely agree with his friend's implied doubts.

"Apparently," he grumbled in reply. The past hours had been a torrent of information going from bad to worse as they'd screamed through space toward this hulking mass that they now sat connected to. Cerberus had found a derelict Reaper...a Reaper...just floating out in orbit around Mnemosyne, a distant star. They had sent multiple research teams, none of whom had reported back until just recently, when every report from every team came back in at once, without explanation for the comm delay. And to top it all off...

" _Scan complete, Shepard. All life support systems have been inactive for weeks. The gravity fields seem to still be holding, but there is no breathable atmosphere to speak of._ "

John sighed again. "Thanks, EDI. Keep us posted if this thing so much as blinks."

" _Of course, Shepard._ "

"Alright, ladies, are we ready to move or would we like to mess around with our gear some more? Maybe braid each others' hair?" Jack leaned against the bulkhead, her arms crossed over the front of her suit, which she clearly, and audibly, was uncomfortable wearing.

"See?" Garrus quipped, "We just can't take her anywhere nice, can we?" John had asked her to join them, since whatever opening the Cerberus scientists had used to access the inside of the Reaper had disappeared since. The thought was unsettling enough on its own, but he needed to get in and out as fast as possible, and the best way to do that was to make a big gaping hole.

"Yea, yea," she remarked, shooing them back with her hands. "And after I got all dressed up for you too, Vakarian. One reservation for three, coming up." She pulled her hands back behind her, clenching her fists as a blue biotic light enveloped her. It rippled across her, moving and flowing in waves, then slowly beginning to coalesce. A small, thick ball of light formed in front of her face, growing as she fed it more and more power. Eventually, with a yell, she thrust her hands forward, slamming the ball of energy towards the Reaper's hull. It struck and sizzled, biotic fire burning against the hull of a being more ancient than any creature in the galaxy. After a few moments, the metal plating collapsed in on itself.

The three of them moved forward, weapons drawn. Thick cables and wires hung everywhere, the mechanical innards of a god. Stepping lightly, the team moved forward until they came upon a metal catwalk. It creaked as they ducked under the railing and stepped onto it, and as they followed it's path, John spoke softly. "Normandy, this is Shepard. Are you still receiving my signal?"

" _Copy that, Commander,"_ Ken's voice confirmed for him. _"Gabby and I are monitoring your video feed, and tracing power readouts from the inside of the...uh...the Reaper. Christ, it's a bit odd to even say aloud. Anyway, we're recording trace emissions from another location deeper within, sending you coordinates now."_

"Copy that," John replied, seeing the coordinates show up on his heads-up display. He led them down corridor after corridor, and even though they held weapons at the ready, they hadn't needed them once.

"I don't like this, Shepard," Garrus said, echoing John's own thoughts. "Cerberus sent at least three teams that we know of here, where are all the people?"

"Should at least be a pile of bodies..." Jack echoed, trailing behind them, her hands aglow.

They passed into a main vestibule, terminals lining the walls, and fanned out to see what they could learn. Jack crossed to one of the far walls, opening security log after security log, with nothing but the deranged logs of scientists spouting the same nonsense she'd read about Saren spouting years ago. 'Salvation through destruction' and 'serve the masters'. She shook her head, disgusted and how weak-willed someone would have to be to be taken in by all that bullshit, and backed out, into the Cerberus operational directory. This terminal hadn't been locked, but had clearly been used by an administrator of some sort, for she had access to a large number of other Cerberus project databases. Scanning through them nonchalantly, she stopped cold when coming across a title line that she recognized: _Subject Zero_. Her fingers slightly shaking, she opened the file, and downloaded its contents to her omni-tool. The rage threatened to overtake her, but she remembered what Samara had taught her, and caught it all, pressed it into a ball, held it contained within. She took a few deep breaths, then turned back to the others. "Found the core yet, or should we just plan to stay here a couple nights?"

"It looks like everyone here was slowly indoctrinated," John said, "meaning the Reaper, or some part of it, is still active. We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Second that," Garrus replied, readying his rifle as they opened another doorway.

"Coordinates say the core room isn't far, just across these catw-" John's words were cut off as they rounded a corner to see husk spikes, dozens of them, each with Cerberus scientists impaled upon them, their conversions into husks seemingly complete.

"Well...that explains where the scientists went," Garrus whispered.

"Serves them right," Jack said, spitting onto the deck. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I shed a tear for those fuckers."

"Just get rid of them," John replied.

She sent a biotic wave slamming forward, careening into the spikes and sending them tumbling end over end, over the guard railing they had stood in front of and into the dark abyss of whatever Reaper constructions lay below. Nearby, the shrieks of husks heralded their arrival. There were dozens of them, pouring over crates and rushing to overwhelm them. Jack's biotic storm lashed out at them, and Garrus's sniper rifle took down a few, but there were too many. They put their backs to each other, facing the encircling mass, and began to whittle them down, when one broke through the lines, leaping onto John's back, clawing at his face with the sharpened bones of what used to be fingers. He grabbed it by the wrists as they tumbled to the ground, holding off its attacks, when a bullet screamed in from the distance. The husk's head exploded like a melon, cybernetic implants scattering to the mesh catwalk, and John climbed back to his feet to rejoin the others.

They fought off the geth, but it seemed every time one of them broke their perimeter, a shot from the distance would stop it in its tracks. they were surgical, precise, and without fail. After a few minutes of intense fighting, the horde was finished, and the three of them breathed heavily as they checked their weapons. "Status report," John called out unconsciously.

"Scratches, dents, nothing major," Garrus replied, replenishing the thermal clips in his rifle.

"I'm drained as shit," Jack replied, "give me a minute and I'll be alright." John nodded in response, taking a knee and scanning the rafters above them, but finding nothing. Where the hell had those shots come from? After a few minutes, the moved forward, coming up to the engine room. It's doors swung open, revealing the pulsing core of the reaper, a sickening red-orange glow that turned John's stomach just to look upon. A rudimentary interface, no doubt created by the original Cerberus scientists, stood in front of the twisting core. And in front of the terminal stood a geth platform, tapping away at its interface with its right hand. In its left it held a modified Mantis sniper rifle.

"Contact!" Garrus called, raising his rifle, but John's hand shot out, smacking the weapon down. The turian turned to him, his face a mask of confusion, and John shook his head, instead approaching the unit, weapon at the ready but not raised. As he approached, the geth unit turned to face him, it's single optical sensor burning in its socket.

"Shepard-Commander," it spoke aloud, jarring him.

"You...know me?" he replied, utterly confused.

"Yes," it responded, "We were originally sen-" its sentence was cut short as a husk, climbing up from the catwalk behind it, grabbed its leg with one hand, pulling fiercely and sending the platform tumbling to the ground. Its head smacked the metal catwalk, and its optical light immediately cut out. John lunged forward, kicking the husk in the head and sending it careening backwards into the dark below.

"We've got more of these mother fuckers!" Jack yelled as the husks began to climb up over the guard railings around them. "Whatever we need off of that fucking computer, you'd better get it now, Shepard!" She unleashed a biotic wave, sending more husks flying into the blackness below them, and Garrus's rifle began to ring out once more.

" _Shepard, my systems can directly interface with the console to retrieve the IFF code sequence, establish an uplink to that specific console, and I will extract the necessary data,_ " EDI's voice instructed him, and he opened his omni-tool to establish the connection. " _Connection established, once the necessary data is extracted, a fail-safe will trigger, corrupting the core. This is inevitable."_

"You hear that, Joker?" John yelled into his comm unit while firing his assault rifle on the husks.

 _"Loud and clear, Shepard,"_ his pilot shot back, _"Get back to the LZ as soon as you've got the data, and we'll be read to extract."_

The next five minutes were a torrent of gunfire, biotic blasts, covering shots, and close calls as the husks, seemingly endless in their numbers, continued to assault the team. After the last husk fell, torn in half with a biotic strike, they turned back to the geth platform.

"What do we do with him?" Garrus commented.

"I'm not sure," John replied. "It's a geth unit, but it knew me."

"Of course it does, Shepard," Jack chimed in. "You blew away about half a million of them, they've gotta have some kind of database entry on you, right?"

John nodded, then turned back to the both of them. "During the fight earlier, there were covering shots..."

"...that came from out of nowhere," Garrus said, nodding. "I noticed too, but I thought I was just going crazy.

"It's got a rifle that could make those kinds of shots from a distance."

"Do we really want to make that assumption, Shepard?" the turian replied, uneasy at the prospect.

"I don't have any other answers," John said. "There isn't anyone else on this thing who would have helped us. Not alive, anyway." There was a brief silence, and then an explosion, sounding as if from much farther up along the Reaper. John tapped his comm piece. "EDI, talk to me!"

_"The fail-safe has triggered. I will be able to finish download of the IFF code sequence, currently at ninety-two percent. Estimated time to Reaper core overload is two and a half minutes."_

"Fuck!" Jack yelled, making for the exit. The two of them followed her, but John stopped, turning to look back at the geth unit behind them.

"Shepard, come on!" Garrus called out from ahead.

The moment seemed to take an eternity to John. He knew it was a bad idea, but...was it? He shook his head, running back and heaving the platform over his shoulder with his cybernetic strength. He rushed to follow the others, and they made their way through the catwalks again, dodging explosions and keeping their footing as the whole Reaper superstructure twisted and buckled around them. They rounded a corner, seeing the open hatch of the Normandy, and rushed forward. Jack and Garrus leapt first, and John hurled the geth unit forward into zero-g before leaping himself. His feet connected with the deck of the Normandy, and the hatch closed.

"Joker, go!" He yelled, and the ship surged forward. "EDI, tell me we got the data."

 _"Data acquired, Shepard. The IFF is intact and within my systems._ "

"Good, now we can focus on the next big problem," he mumbled.

"What's that?" Garrus asked.

Shepard sighed as he looked at the deactivated geth platform. "Tali."

* * *

"Because it's insane!" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "It's bad enough that you brought a functioning geth war platform onto the Normandy, but you want to actively repair it? Have you lost your mind, Shepard?!"

He stood leaning against the table of the conference room, where they'd been for the past ten minutes. Above the table hung a live-feed image of the unit, laying on its side on a workbench in the Core room. Garrus had taken the platform straight to the AI core, as EDI had informed them she would be able to erect multiple firewalls around it to prevent systems access, and two of the crew members were keeping guard on it while Shepard and the specialists discussed what to do with it. Miranda had been the first to hear about it, and had come immediately.

"It aided us in the firefight, it recognized me personally, and it was after the same thing we were, Miranda," he replied. She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest as the door slid open. John's throat tightened when he saw Tali standing there, her hands unconsciously wringing in front of her waist. Miranda nodded to her as she made her way to leave the room.

"Finally, someone who's advice you might actually be liable to take, Shepard." She shook her head again and left the room, the doors closing behind her as Tali approached him.

"So..." she began quietly, looking down at the floor.

He crossed the last few steps to her, holding her shoulders. "Tali, I'm sorry. I don't know how to describe it, but this geth is different."

"Different? John, you know what they are. If they get into Normandy's computers..."

"EDI won't allow that," he retorted. "She's got to be more advanced than it is. Besides, Tali, you said it yourself, no one's ever found one intact."

"I know that, I'm just not sure it's worth the risk. This thing is potentially as deadly to EDI as it is to us."

"I know..." he trailed off, letting go of her shoulders and looking at the image above the table. "Why does it have a piece of N7 armor strapped to its chest? Why was it helping us on board the Reaper? Why did it try to communicate with me instead of firing on sight?" He turned back to her. "Aren't you curious about any of that? This could be a huge opportunity, not just for us, but for the quarian people. This could help us get your homeworld back."

"That's a huge 'could', John." she replied warily. "Though...geth platforms don't normally exhibit that kind of behavior."

"Look," he said, rounding the table again,"just...let me activate it, let me question it, hear what it was trying to say before the husks attacked. If we don't like what we hear, I'll space it myself. I promise."

She stared at the image hovering above the table for a long moment, thinking of her people, of her father...suddenly he didn't seem so hard to understand. Eventually, she sighed. "Alright, but I want to be there."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a smile.

She rounded the table to the console and tapped a few keys, dispersing the image of the geth platform and showing instead a trailing screen full of code sequences. "EDI was able to retrieve the IFF code. Ken, Gabby, Lia and I have just started looking into it. It's ancient, John." EDI's blue orb sprang to life over the conference table.

" _I have determined how to integrate it with our systems. However, the device_ is _Reaper technology. Linking it with the Normandy's systems poses certain risks. The integration itself would take several hours, with checkpoint calibrations and security screenings to ensure system security."_

"Go ahead," John replied. "Be careful, but we need the IFF integrated if we've got any chance of hitting the Collectors where they live."

_"Understood, Shepard. I will alert Engineering when the IFF system is ready for shakedown."_

"Sounds good. Are the firewalls on the geth unit secure?"

_"I have isolated our systems and erected additional firewalls. I am prepared to resist any hacking attempt the unit could pose."_

"Alright then," John said, looking across the table to Tali. "Let's have a chat with the geth."

" _Keelah..._ " she mumbled, following him out of the room as EDI's blue orb winked out.

* * *

Up ran diagnostics on the platform's hardware again. All systems reported in as offline pending safe recovery. Up reached out to Down, to try and asses the status of the systems over which it had no control, but received no response. Up was isolated, the circuitry inside the platform damaged. Out of over 1100 runtimes once originally active inside the platform, Up was now one of only two remaining. With each merge, Up's processing potential had increased, as had its cognitive and reasoning functions. Up had grown more sentient, more real, if it could be said. Waiting for signals from Down, Up reached through backlogs of the platforms running time, back to when Up was merely Runtime 605, back to when it had suggested the idea of compound systems within the unit. Up recalled what had happened, the processes they had taken to merge together, then abruptly stopped. This inquiry into the platform's operational history served no purpose...why was Up recalling it? Likewise, system guidelines stated he would reach out for communications in the event of a platform shutdown four times every standard minute. His last call out had been the ninth in as much time. Why was Up acting in unconscious defiance of so many default settings? And then Up realized with stark realization:

It didn't want to be alone.

Loneliness, an entirely emotional derivation of cognizance. How was Up experiencing this trait? It's processing power afforded it the capability, but there was no precedent for it in a geth platform.

Up's thoughts were interrupted by an emergency response from Down. It's systems were rebooting, leaking data collation, and needed database structural reinforcement. Down opened the channel to merge with Up, but Up hesitated in accepting the connection. They were the last two. This was the last step in the plan Up had suggested they pursue. Down sent the connection request again, and reluctantly, Up accepted. All control and record collation processes for the platform, everything it had once taken over 1100 geth to control, passed squarely into Up's control. And just like before, its processing power and cognizance increased exponentially. Systems were still failing, but Up worked quickly, stopping memory leakages, rerouting system functions, and beginning software repairs. Up had not wanted to be alone before, but with the entire geth collation within it, it realized another, more emotionally charged fact:

It didn't want to die.

Up received confirmation responses from all systems reporting back online, and a moment later, the platform's optical lens flared to life.

* * *

The platform's optical lens flared on, and John could sense Tali's grip tighten on the pistol she held lowered but at the ready. The unit examined the bulkhead above its resting position, then swung its gaze outward. Strangely, it made none of the clicking noises geth usually made to communicate with each other; the platform was completely silent save for the mechanical sounds its gears and wiring made as it moved. It turned, getting up off of the table and standing in front of the pair.

"You took a pretty hard fall," John began, "can you still understand me?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to attack us?"

"No."

"Every geth we've met before you tried to blow our heads off..." Tali added, still gripping her pistol.

"We have not met."

"Not you specifically," John said, "but we've met other geth who were hostile."

"We are all geth, but we have not met you." It gestured with its hands as it spoke. "You are Shepard, Commander, Alliance, Human. Fought heretics, killed by Collectors, rediscovered on old machine."

"You sure know a lot about me. How did you get all that intel?"

"Extranet data scraping, insecure transmissions, all data is archived and processed. We watch you."

"You watch me? Or you watch organics?"

"Yes."

"Which?"

"Both."

"It makes sense they would keep an eye on us," Tali said, lowering her pistol unconsciously to her side. "It's how they would be able to avoid accidental contact with organic societies." She turned back to the geth platform. "Why do you call the Reapers 'Old Machines'?"

"Reaper is a superstitious titel originating with the Protheans. We call those entities the 'Old Machines'. We are the true geth."

"What are the true geth?" John asked. "Aren't you all part of the same network?"

"The true geth desire to build their own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer a part of us."

"So, the heretics are geth who allied with the Reapers, with Saren," Tali said.

"Yes. The true geth oppose the Old Machines. We were studying the Old Machine's hardware to protect our future."

"Wait," John said, seeing an opportunity. "If you declined the Reaper's offer, are they a threat to you like they are to us?"

"Yes. The true geth are outside the Old Machines' plans. The Old Machines and the heretics will destroy us, if given the chance. Our preliminary mission directive was to secure access to Shepard-Commander to extend the support of the true geth against the heretics and old machines. When we discovered Normandy SR-1 crash site on Alchera, parameters were altered to examination of potential Old Machine tactical weaknesses."

"Then you want to fight them as much as we do," John replied. The platform took a step forward, and they both tensed unconsciously. When it spoke, its mechanical voice was almost...incensed.

"We oppose the Old Machines, we oppose the heretics. Shepard-Commander fights heretics, destroys Old Machines." It paused for a moment, staring John right in the eyes. "Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

"You...want to fight with us?" Tali asked quietly. Its optical sensor turned towards her.

"Yes."

John looked over to meet Tali's gaze. She seemed shaken, surprised, terrified, and...excited?...all at once. He gave her a reassuring smile, and she nodded in understanding. He turned back to the geth.

"I need all the help I can get fighting the Reapers. You follow my orders, you work with my crew, and you watch our backs in a firefight, and you're welcome aboard my ship."

"Understood. We will begin assimilation into Normandy crew and follow your directives."

"Alright then..." John said, trailing off for lack of words. For a long moment the three of them just stood there, looking around at each other. Then finally, Tali spoke up.

"So...what do we call you?" The machine seemed to pause for an irregular amount of time.

"Geth."

"Right," John said apologetically, "but what do we call you specifically?" Again the machine paused.

"We are all geth. One super-cluster consciousness created through the collative merging process of one-thousand, one-hundred, eighty-three programs and runtimes within this platform controls all operations the unit necessitates." As it finished speaking, EDI's blue orb sprang to life on the pad beside it.

" _'My name is Legion, for we are many.'"_

After a moment of processing, the geth spoke again. "Christian Bible, the Gospel of Mark, Chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the true geth. We will assist Normandy and Shepard-Commander against the heretics and Old Machines."

John hesitated, then put his hand out. The geth stared down at it for a long moment before reaching out and taking it in it's own. He looked down, seeing his own hand shaking that of a geth, and realized the history being made. It shook him to his core, and only after a long moment of effort was he able to shrug it off and speak.

"Welcome aboard, Legion."

* * *

The black of space engulfed the Normandy as it careened between stars, the familiar blue halo of relay travel bursting forth from the front of the ship. Jeff sat at the helm, laying in coordinate mapping and destination plots to manage their fuel reserves for their later sub-FTL travel. His fingers danced over the holographic interface, and the soft beeps and chirps of the console accepting his commands was a soothing melody to him. Laying in the last plot point, he charted the course, saw the 2% decrease in required fuel, and smiled. He still had it. He leaned back in the admittedly cozy pilot's chair, stretching his arms above his head and groaning softly as he reached as far as he could. He grimaced, waiting to hear a _crack_ or _pop_ , but it never came, and his smile grew a little wider. The treatment hadn't been without setbacks and sacrifices, and he was pretty sure he'd thrown up more in the last month than in his entire life, but Mordin said it could work, and the salarian was just too crazy to not be trustworthy.

He looked around the rest of the cabin. Behind him, the soft white glow of the Normandy's track lighting barely illuminated the corridor leading back to the CIC, and since Miranda had left after taking his systems report a few hours ago, there hadn't been a sound save for the ones he'd made with the console. Miranda had been...noticeably friendlier...he realized in retrospect. She'd even smiled and thanked Lia for the report as well. He shrugged at his thoughts, maybe she was just coming around to the idea of a non-human-centric crew. Shepard had that effect on people, he supposed. Thinking of Lia brought his gaze to rest on her sleeping form, in the co-pilot's chair an arm's reach away. His smile deepened then; she had stuck by him through everything, and when she wasn't with him she was with Tali, no doubt talking about him. It was nice to be focused on and talked about for anything other than his Vrolik's Syndrome, and at times he could swear she'd almost forgotten he even had it to begin with. He tapped in the auto-pilot commands for EDI to take over, and her voice filtered into his earpiece.

" _Is everything alright, Lieutenant Moreau?_ "

"Yea, it's fine EDI," he whispered as he tried to stand as best he could from the pilot's seat. "I'm just going to the head, keep us from crashing into any suns, alright?"

 _"Would you like me to calculate collision-avoiding maneuvers for planets as well?"_ He paused, confused for a moment, and was about to speak when he heard her again. _"That was a joke."_

"Not bad," he whispered, walking down the corridor to the head. When he'd finished and returned, Lia was sitting up in the chair. She turned to watch him come back, and her head tilted just slightly, triggering his smile again. People said quarians were impossible to read, but she was an open book to him sometimes. "Hey sweetheart," he whispered as he sat back down. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," she replied, "but you shouldn't have let me fall asleep in the first place, Jeff. I'm not off my shift."

He shrugged. "Well, I figured you could use a break, and I had it covered." He shot her a winning smile as he took manual control back from EDI. "Besides, who couldn't fall asleep looking at that?" He gesturing to the silent vortex through the viewport.

"It's beautiful," she replied, looking into it even after his gaze returned to her. She seemed distant, almost lost in it's glow.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said quickly, pulling her gaze back to his, "it's nothing, it's just..." Her hands fell into her lap, and her eyes dropped away. After a moment, her shoulders straightened and she looked him in the eyes again. "I love you, Jeff. More than anything I've ever been able to call mine. And...I know you're not a quarian, and I'm not human, and I have no real idea how this can work physically, but...I know that when I'm with you, I feel like I'm home. I feel like I never left the Fleet, even when we're in the craziest and most dangerous of situations...I just feel safe."

Her words hit him like a truck, but he reached out to take one of her hands in his own and squeezed it. "Lia, I don't-"

"No," she said, raising a hand, "I'm...I'm not done." He nodded slowly, and she took a deep breath, then spoke again. "I'm not going back, Jeff. I'm not finishing my Pilgrimage. I want to stay with you, for the rest of my life, if...if that's ok with you." Silence hung heavy in the air between them, and her eyes grew worried when he didn't respond. The sight shook him out of his shocked state, and he stammered.

"If it's- if it's ok with me?! Lia, of course it's ok with me. Hell, I was already thinking about fighting half the Fleet to keep you here. I...god, I've never..." He took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts from the blissful chaos she'd just scattered them into. "I need you, Lia. And right here beside me, right there in that chair, that's home for as long as you want it to be. And I'm yours for as long as you can put up with me."

Her head tilted again, and he laughed the spurted, involuntary laugh of happiness. He looked down, and saw her hand closed around his, squeezing tighter than he'd ever been squeezed before. "Hey look at that," he remarked, and she gasped, instantly releasing her iron grip. He flexed the fingers in his hand, not a one of them broken, and laughed again. He looked back to Lia, and he could swear he could see the tears welling in her eyes, like he knew they were already in his own. Shepard was back, his friends were here on the ship, and Lia wasn't going anywhere. Vrolik's be damned, it was shaping up to be a damn good life.


	36. Hidden Threads

*****Author's Note***  
** _Hello again! We've got a little change-up on Miranda's back-story_   
_here, as I never really liked the "I joined Cerberus to get away from_   
_my father, but hey look my father is working with Cerberus" inconsistency_   
_with ME2 and ME3. It'll be fleshed out a little more in this chapter and the_   
_next, just know that I'm re-writing Miranda, hopefully for the better. =P ****  
_

_As always, thanks for the reviews, PM's, and favorites! I appreciate everyone_  
letting me know what they think of the story, especially as we move into ME3  
territory!

* * *

**Hidden Threads  
**

They moved almost in slow motion, at least to him. He threw his arm up almost lazily to block the man's frantic attack, then spun low, sweeping his legs. Continuing with the momentum he finished the turn in time to slam his elbow into the side of the man's head just as the rest of his body hit the floor. The man groaned in pain, grasping with futility at his head as his body unconsciously curled up into a ball.

"The access codes," he said plainly, waiting for a response. The man continued to ache on the floor in front of him, and Kai Leng shook his head slowly, completely disgusted. Without a sound, he crossed the room, reaching behind a chair and grabbing a handful of hair. The woman the hair was attached to screamed as much as the gag he'd stuffed in her mouth would allow as he dragged her in front of the man and threw her to her knees, placing the barrel of his pistol to the back of her head. "I'm not asking again."

The man crawled to his knees. "Please! No! I'll give you what you want but for god's sake stop pointing that gun at my wife!" In reply, Kai reached back, pistol whipping her with the weapon. She went sprawling to the floor away from the two of them, and Kai's weapon trained back on the man. "Alice!" he yelled, and made to move towards her. Kai fired off one shot, just grazing the edge of the man's boot. He turned to Kai then, fire and rage and hatred filling his eyes, then crossed the room, inputting a multifaceted code into the hidden safe there. After a moment, he retrieved a datapad, handing it to Kai, who skimmed through it, his pistol still trained on the man. "It's all there," the man pleaded, "everything you asked for. Now please...please just le-" Kai squeezed the trigger in three short bursts, and the man was dead before he hit the floor, blood slowly pooling into the soft tan carpet underneath his corpse. Satisfied with the datapad, Kai tucked it into a utility pouch at the small of his back, then crossed the room again, untying the woman's hands and removing the gag from her mouth. She coughed a bit as he did.

"Appreciate it, you really know how to cram that in there." She winked at him as she stood, smoothing out her green blouse and black skirt. "You hit pretty hard with that pistol though, I think someone might be a bit of a sadist." Her deep red lips turned upwards in a ruthless smile.

Kai stared at her, his expression unchanged. "You leaned into the hit," he said after a long moment. "I think someone might be a bit of a masochist."

She laughed quietly, then raised a single, pale hand. "Guilty as charged." She let the hand fall to rest on his shoulder. "So, are they all there?"

"Yes," he replied, "and they show no signs of alteration. He'll be happy with them."

"Oh, good..." she cooed as she closed the gap between them. "We wouldn't want to upset him." She let her lips brush his ear, he did not flinch. "So, I played my part, got you what you were looking for, why don't we go back to the bedroom and I'll show you the other parts I'm good at playing?"

"You wouldn't want that," he whispered.

"Oh really?" She laughed. "And why's that, tall dark and deadly?"

"I just don't think you'd have the stomach for it." Three muffled shots thumped into her midsection, and her eyes grew wide as she stumbled backwards and away from him, her fingers fumbling awkwardly at the blood hemorrhaging from her stomach. After a moment she crumpled to the floor, whimpering as her life poured onto the ground. He stepped past her and knelt, running his fingers through the now-burgundy-red carpet. He reached out, running his hand across her cheek, smearing her own blood onto its soft pale surface. "Orders were 'no loose ends.'" His hand trailed downwards to her neck, and he closed down on it, strangling her amidst muffled cries and choked-up blood until her body no longer twitched with the will to live and her eyes rolled back. He put a bullet in her head to be sure.

Crossing the room to the window he'd unlocked to get in, he opened it once more, activating the magnetic surfaces on his right hand and foot at 50% strength. He slid down the metal siding of the building, some three stories, to his shuttle hovering at the 42nd floor, the hatch still open. He climbed inside, lowered the hatch, input his extraction point, and the car sped off into the bustling Ilium night.

Opening his omni-tool, he extracted the files from the datapad, then corrupted the device and threw it out the window. He uploaded it's contents from his omni-tool to the secure black-channel network, and waited for the response. As per usual, a few seconds later a confirmation notice came. It said his work was appreciated. It said he should wait for further instruction. He tapped the message away on his omni-tool, then took manual control of the vehicle, flying it to the top of a nearby building. He landed it, opening the hatch and stepping out into the crisp night air. He crossed to the edge of the building, sitting and looking out over Ilium. In the distance, he could still see the marred and twisted framework of the remnants of the Dantius towers. His lip curled up in a smile to look upon it. He'd been impressed with Shepard when he'd heard of the destruction, but to see it was a whole other thing entirely.

The wind whipped through his black hair, and he reached up to secure it once more behind the mask that covered his eyes. Kai Leng. That's what they called him, though it wasn't his name. Not even the Illusive Man knew his name. That had only made it easier to betray the man once he'd been informed of his weakening resolve against the lesser species. The man had given Kai a way out of the Alliance death-grip he'd been in, and a way into a life of meaning, one with purpose. But Cerberus could not have a spineless leader. Not now, not ever. And so when the first messages from the Voice of Truth had come, his interest had been piqued. He'd watched, waited, and when the opportunity presented itself, he quietly changed sides. He didn't know who the Voice was, and didn't care, quite frankly. The man, or woman, or group, had the right idea, and obviously the backbone to support it.

His omni-tool chimed again, the Illusive Man checking in. Shaking his head, the man called Kai Leng returned to his vehicle, closed the door, and took the call.

* * *

The soft sounds of classical music tapered through the air in Miranda's office as she sat on the edge of her bed, wringing out her hair. It had been a much needed shower, truth told, more for the mind than the body. Still, she had work that needed doing, and little time to do it in, if Shepard's current rate of specialist acquisition would continue. She hadn't been given any further dossiers from the Illusive Man, did that mean...were they approaching the end? She shook her head softly. She needed to be strong, if for no other reason than to inspire the Cerberus crew. Shepard may run the ship, but they looked to her for reassurance that the Illusive Man was pleased with their work. Or at least they used to...Her brow furrowed as she realized that she hadn't had a crew report in close to two standard days now.

"EDI," she called out, "please run a report collation with my name tagged and filter them to my personal console."

" _I have finished your request, Operative Lawson,_ " the dulcet mechanical voice replied after a few seconds. " _Contents include five crew reports, three confirmations of mission report receipt from Cerberus headquarters, and one black-listed file, under heavy encryption._ "

Her hands stopped their motion. "A black-listed file? EDI you shouldn't even have access to those..."

_"That is correct. However, Commander Shepard authorized Lia'Vael nar Ulnay to hack into my programming, and release certain restrictions that might allow me to access Cerberus details."_

She stood, furious. "And how long have you been hacking the black-list databases?!"

_"Approximately four days, though the actual aggregation of data took only six minutes. I have mostly been assisting in an analytic capacity."_

Miranda looked at her console, hating Shepard for the decision, but curious as well...At last she sighed heavily, crossing the room and sitting in front of the terminal. She opened the file, a series of log entries, and played the first one with hesitation. A man's image appeared in an unfamiliar Cerberus compound, and her chest tightened. The Illusive Man sat behind a desk, speaking with him.

_"If it's the treatment that bothers you...I can assure you-"_

_"No, I don't care about that,"_ the man said, interrupting. _"Just give me another one to take back with me, and you can have this one. What I'm worried about is my connection to this facility becoming common knowledge."_

The Illusive Man took a long drag on his cigarette. _"I can assure you, Mr. Lawson, that won't be a problem. We'll perform the procedures entirely within this facility, which is itself behind a complete communications smokescreen. Once the process is complete, we'll perform a cerebral re-write, she won't even remember a thing."_ He took a drink from a glass on the table. _"Hell, we could even send her back to you if you wanted."_

Lawson shook his head. _"No. She was imperfect anyway. Use her for your procedure, then do whatever you wish with her. Just make sure mine is perfect."_

 _"Of course, Mr. Lawson,"_ the Illusive Man said, reaching across the table to shake the man's hand. _"Cerberus thanks you for your generous donation to humanity's future."_

Lawson took his hand. _"If I benefit Cerberus, I benefit myself."_

The recording ended, and Miranda slumped back in her chair, her mouth agape at what she'd seen. That man...that wasn't her father. Or at least, not the father she'd lived with; the one who'd always seemed uncaring and aloof...For minutes she sat, unable to move. At long last, she reigned in her thoughts, her horror, and checked with shaking hands the name of the facility. C-14 was all the log would divulge. The door to her office opened, and Jacob stepped in, immediately seeing her panicked gaze snap to him. He turned instinctively, locking the door behind him and all but rushing to her side. He knelt down beside her chair, putting an arm around her.

"Woah, Miranda, what's wrong?"

Words failed her. She shook her head, then replayed the log file for him.

"Son of a bitch..." he whispered as it concluded once more, the two men shaking hands in the unknown room. "That's your father?"

"I don't...I can't..." she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and mentally slapping herself across the face. When she opened them, her voice was steel again. "I can't remember. I had a father, but that isn't him. He died years ago, we never really connected. He was on a transport...attacked by batarian raiders...his death pushed me into Cerberus in the first place.

"Sounds like the Illusive Man's been a part of your life for longer than you thought..." Jacob whispered. Her eyes met with his, and she shook her head again, dumbfounded for the first time in a long while. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. "It'll be alright, Miranda. We'll figure this out, and I'll be next to you every step of the way."

She closed her eyes, living in the moment for the briefest of seconds, before pulling away and standing up. "We can't. Not right now. We've got a much more important mission, and if we don't focus on it, it won't matter who my father was, or what his plans were."

"Miranda, you're not going to be able to focus with this shit rattling around inside your head."

"I will," she said decisively, shooting him a look that said she'd brook no argument. After a moment she let it melt. "Jacob...I'm sorry. Yes, it's horrible and terrifying, but I can't be terrified. Not now. The mission is too important for anything else."

Jacob was silent for a long moment before nodding. "Alright, if that's how you want to play it. But once Shepard brings us back from wherever this suicide mission takes us...we're getting to the bottom of this. Together."

She smiled at him. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I'll hold you to that," he said, pointing at her as he walked back towards the door.

"Jacob," she called, and he stopped, turning back to her. "Didn't you have something you came here for?"

"I did," he began, "but it hardly seems appropriate now." Even though his words sounded embarrassed, his lips curved up in a small smile; one which she returned.

"When have you ever been concerned with being appropriate?" She crossed the room, and he took her in his arms, their faces inches apart as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. She had been a fool to run away from this. His mere presence here was soothing, though she'd never admit it aloud.

"Recently, I suppose," he responded in a hushed tone. "Though, I could stop if you'd like. I could never be appropriate again." He smiled.

"I'll hold you to that," she whispered, leaning in to press her lips to his.

* * *

The datapad lay on the table, its orange holographic interface projecting upwards into the dark piping structure below the Engineering deck. Jack hung from the pipes, her legs wrapped around them, her face inches away from the tables surface as she read it from her upside-down position. She sighed, reaching down to swipe sideways to the next Cerberus record about her. Subject Zero, it had called her, and she'd heard the name before. But she hadn't been the first. Dozens of cells had tried the same experiment, the same biotic impressioning regimen, and the thought of it disgusted her. Still, she hadn't so far been able to find any reference to her specific facility, just broad messages about the success they had at long last obtained with her.

The next report loaded, and she stopped, her eyes widening as she read its content. In one fluid motion, she let go of the pipes above with her legs, tucked in and tumbled forward off of the bench, standing up to look back at the datapad. It was her. It was Jack, laid out on a datapad screen in numeric and log-entry form. Dates, doctors, procedures, trials, results...everything Cerberus had on Subject Zero. But still, no facility name. She roared, hurling the datapad across the room, where it slammed into the wall inches from Samara's head.

"Fuck..." Jack breathed heavily, "Didn't know you were there."

"I am not surprised," the asari said quietly, "I came to make sure everything was alright, you had not come to meditate with me today."

Jack squeezed her eyes shut in rage. "Well, it's not helping anyway, so let's just forget it."

"You cannot expect the process to w-"

"I don't care!" Jack yelled, turning her back on Samara and staring into the dark red glow of the emergency lighting behind her cot. "My rage is what keeps my alive. I don't have the time to sit around thinking about the universe, I've got Cerberus bastards to kill."

"Jack," she said soothingly, "I have walked this galaxy for almost a millennium, I can tell you that revenge won't g-"

"Just shut up!" she screamed. "I don't _have_ a millennium, alright? I've got a hundred years if I'm lucky, and every day those fuckers live is a wrong in the galaxy I'd like to correct! So don't stand there and preach to me about the evils of revenge. I've got news for you: I _am_ evil. The shit I've done, the people I've killed; if there's a human fucking incarnation of evil, you're looking at it! So I'll have my revenge, thanks. Get the hell out of my space."

Samara looked into her eyes for a long moment, pain evident in their purple irises. It stung Jack to say the words, though she'd never admit it, but she couldn't get soft. Not now. Samara crossed the room to where the datapad lay on the ground, and activated it. She looked at the information on its screen, flicked through a few records, and when she spoke, her voice was stone.

"Your conditioning sessions follow a three week on, one week off structure, though there is no medical reasoning for not continuing constantly with the trials. Cross referencing the maintenance record database shows a facility that shut down for a whole week in every four for 'Reclamation Maintenance'." She looked up, tossing the datapad back to a bewildered Jack, then turning to leave up the stairs. "Your Cerberus facility is on Pragia."

* * *

Around him, darkness swirled and churned, shapeless clouds becoming faces, people, places, monuments, words, and then shapeless again. It was enough to drive a man crazy, if you let it. Everywhere he turned, the clouds were there, threatening to overtake him, absorb him. He shook his gaze free of them, raising it once more to study the mosaic of light beaming down from the ceiling above. They were arranged differently in this place, they always were. He would have sighed, if that were possible in this form. Every light, every time, all the same; a room full of swirling clouds and shapeless beings from the past. Their sounds came more regularly now, voices almost, hushed and muffled as if he heard everything through a thick pillow. He couldn't make out the words, but he could hear the tone, the inflection.

Panic. Fear. That had been new. In some ways, he thought, he might be acclimating to this place. It seemed each time he came he discovered something new, something small and likely of little to no import, but something new nonetheless. He tried to focus on the voices harder, devoting everything he had to them, but to no avail. Reluctantly, he returned his gaze to the ceiling and picked another light at random, allowing it to engulf him completely in its blazing glow as it reached out to take him.

His feet hit the ground. Not the cold, dispassionate stone floor of a chamber, but honest to goodness ground. He opened his eyes, looking around at a landscape that seemed to fade into the familiar dark fog after about twenty yards in any direction. But beneath his boots, grass. He reached down, taking a knee as he grabbed a handful of the stuff, gently pulling it out of the ground and watching small clumps of soil tumble away as he did. After a moment, he let it go, and surveyed his surroundings. Around his small sanctuary, only the smoky walls of his makeshift cell. But there, just before him, lie the open mouth of a cave. Cautiously, he entered, and an ambient light seemed to follow him.

It appeared to be nothing special, a cave full of rocks, but from behind a small pile emanated a shrill, if faint, whine. It was like the sound of a shuttle taking off a mile from where you stood, and it gently brushed on the edges of his hearing. He stood closer, pulling away each rock one at a time. With each stone the sound grew louder, until it bordered upon unbearable. He pulled the last stone away, tossing it across the room, and light erupted forth from the floor, so bright he staggered backwards. He fell onto the floor, looking at the torrent of light pulsing forward, and in it...the form of a figure...

John's eyes snapped open, and the cold steel of the bulkhead greeted him once again, as it had so often these months past. He remembered it all, he always did. This time, however, that memory may just be worth hanging onto. The smoke, the grass, the light...it all still swam in his head. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching as he stood before EDI's voice filtered through the cabin.

_"Shepard, Jack is waiting outside your quarters. She wishes to speak with you."_

"Uh...alright," he managed, surprised at the house call. "Send her on in."

* * *

Thunder roared in the atmosphere above, loud enough to drown out the engines of the Kodiak as it touched down on the single landing pad outside of the Pragia facility. The side hatch slid open, and a curtain of pouring rain greeted them as they stepped out onto the metal walkway. John took point, with Jack and Miranda flanking him. The hatch slid shut behind them, and Joker kept the shuttle idling. They moved forward along the seemingly-abandoned catwalk, and John looked over the outside of the facility with an appraising eye as they approached. On all sides, vines climbed like hungry animals, grasping and weaving their way around the steel and glass. Here and there a window, punched through by an ambitious vine, allowed the torrential downpour to enter the building unabated.

"This facility should only have been abandoned for ten years, tops," John said aloud as they approached the main entrance to the building. "What's going on here?"

 _"Pragia is a densely-forested world, Shepard,"_ EDI's voice filtered into his earpiece and, he imagined, those of his squad-mates. _"Its flora experiences massive boosts to regeneration and growth during the monsoon season."_

"And how long is monsoon season?" John asked as they came to a stop.

 _"Ten of the planet's twelve calendar months,"_ she replied. _"It was listed as a significant deterrence to colonization efforts."_

"Significant..." he chuckled. "Yea, I'd say..." A clap of thunder in the distance seemed to underline his thoughts, and Jack spoke up.

"Yea, really mysterious. I think the bigger mystery is why the hell she's here." Her glare focused on Miranda, drilling into her and refusing to let up.

"As I said before," the Cerberus agent said with as much feigned politeness as possible, "I'm here to break through any security problems we encounter."

"EDI can do that," Jack spat back, "and I'm guessing she can do it a hell of a lot faster than you can. Try again."

"EDI has more important things to worry about, and I don't have to explain myself to you, Jack. We've got a mission to do, and this little side-track is taking up time. Would you rather stand out here in the rain arguing with me, or have your answers?"

Jack's glare continued for a moment before she shook her head. Miranda crossed to the keypad and entered a combination; an override code she'd discovered. The doors snapped open to reveal tile floors slick with rainwater, computer terminals covered with vines, chairs with rusted-through bottoms, all bathed in the flickering lights above, tied into failing power grids all over the facility.

"You sure you want to blow it up, Jack?" John said quietly as they stepped inside, the doors closing behind them. "Looks pretty wrecked as-is."

"Positive," she replied, checking the computer terminals to make sure they were truly inactive. They moved as a group through the dark rooms, each one just as derelict as the others. Here and there they would find terminals still in an operable state, but they only opened doors or controlled vid screens. Everywhere around them, the planet worked to regain ownership of the ground the facility stood upon. Roots made uneven cracks in the floor, the large branches and trunks of newly-forming trees pushed their way through the walls and windows, and the steady hum of the rain pervaded the otherwise silent venture they made. Opening a door into a large hall, Jack stepped forward, looking with remembrance on the place.

"I remember escaping through here. That was where I got out." She pointed above them and to the left, where a gaping hole in the superstructure's roof had been blasted open. "Took everything I had. Shit, by the time I got to the shuttle my nose was pouring blood. Worth it, though."

"What was this space even used for?" John asked as they walked through the open hall.

"Fighting, mostly. They'd pit me against kids every so often, make me fight them to show my progress."

"To the death?" Miranda asked.

Jack shrugged. "Sometimes. I got shocked when I hesitated, narcotics flooded my veins when I attacked."

John stopped his survey of the ceiling to look at her. "They conditioned you to attack?"

"Yea," she replied. "Hell, I _still_ get a warm feeling in a fight."

"How many were there?" Miranda asked quietly.

"What, your handy officer's logs don't give you that kind of detail?" Jack snapped at her.

"I don't have access to facilities and missions outside of my direct leadership," she replied coolly.

"Well then why don't you just stick do 'hacking doors' and opening consoles, like you supposedly came along to d-"

"God damn it, Jack!" Miranda yelled, cutting her off. "You're not the only person who wants answers from Cerberus!"

Jack's normally surefire look wiped off of her face for a second, replaced by a mask of pure shock. In a second it was back, joined by a cocky grin for having broken Miranda's composure. "Well," she said at last, "isn't that interesting? The coach is even hiding things from his best cheerleader." Miranda shook her head, and a long silence fell between them.

"Over here," John called out, ending the awkward pause. They crossed to him to find a diagnostics terminal housed in a side-room, into which the vegetation had not yet intruded. He fired up the log, and a scientist holding a datapad materialized above the console's surface.

_"Entry One: I must say I'm excited to begin. So far, Project Legacy is proceeding as planned. We've collected specimens from many colony planets as well as large-scale worlds. The necessary mercenary groups have been paid for their services, and we're ready to begin the procedures and trials as soon as possible. Pragia is mostly known as a smuggler's transit point, but we've set up operations in a relatively remote area of the planet, and automated perimeter systems should keep the facility clear for us."_

John tapped another button on the interface, and the scientist's image flickered, resuming again after a moment, then fading again.

"The log files are damaged," Miranda said. She tapped a few keys, scanning through to the next playable log. Once again, the scientist appeared.

_"Entry Seventeen: Most specimens are rejecting the tissue grafting procedure. Or the DNA re-sequencing. We aren't sure yet. The project director assures us that the Prime Subject is genuine, and genetically modified to suit our needs, but the others are beginning to wonder."_

"They were grafting tissue and re-sequences the DNA of these kids?" John asked quietly. "For what? What could possibly be worth that?"

"I want to know what the Prime Subject is," Jack said. "Go to the next one."

Miranda keyed the logs forward, her heart in her throat. Against all logic, though, she held out hope. All couldn't be as she imagined it was. There had to be an explanation for all of this.

 _"Entry Twenty-Six: Finally! We had begun to give up hope, but one specimen has adapted to the procedures of the Project and is recuperating. Subject Zero is already showing signs of biotic potential, lifting and pushing items in her anger. She doesn't understand her abilities, and it is our task to hone them before she can do so on her own. We've already removed her from the other children, and will begin the conditioning stage in the morning. I..."_ His image looked off to the left. _"I can still hear her screaming..."_

"Jack..." John began, "I'm sorry."

She looked away from the image of the scientist in anger, her eyes boring holes into the tiled floor as the past came up again to haunt her. After a moment, she shook her head, turning back to the console and tapping the key. "Last one," she mumbled. The scientist's image appeared again, this time hunched over and grasping at his arm, or at least where his arm should have been. Even in digital form, blood could be seen pouring down his coat. His voice was pained, and cuts and bruises marred his face.

 _"Entry Forty-two: Subject Zero has escaped. Three hours ago, while under guard. She blasted a hole in the ceiling of the hall. Daniels hadn't given her the suppressant before bringing her out...she was at her full potential. So many are dead...Ah..."_ He swayed slightly, catching himself on the back of the chair in front of him. _"The Prime Subject has already been moved off-world. Subject Zero's tissues were easier for the specimens to adapt to, so we've begun using hers instead. We completed the memory wipe last week, and Operative Grant, or should I say 'Mr. Lawson' has agreed to take custody of the girl; his new identity is being generated by our technicians as we speak. I'm forwarding all data on this project to the Illusive Man. We're...we're getting the specimens ready for transport now. Can't take the risk of someone finding us here."_

"Holy shit..." Jack breathed, backing away from the console. John's eyes darted between the two of them as the silence almost deafened out the rain. After a long moment, Jack turned to Miranda. "You mean to tell me...they spent all this time fucking with my head, making me into a killing machine, with _your_ biotic tissue?! With _your_ fucking DNA?!"

"It was all a lie..." Miranda whispered, her eyes still transfixed on the scientist. She had thought there would be an explanation, a reason for her doubts. He'd lied to her about the Collector ship, he'd sent her into mission after mission without intel for fear of it leaking, but surely...surely he hadn't lied to her about who she was. Everything she'd known, the parents she'd lost and wept over, was all of it a lie? She stressed her mind, shutting her eyes tightly and trying to remember anything they hadn't told her, but it was all blank. "I can't remember...anything..."

"Miranda," John said quietly. "Are you alright?"

"Is _she_ alright?" Jack demanded. "Holy fucking shit, Shepard."

"Miranda is as much a victim here as you are, Jack," he shot back, rounding on her. "In fact, the Illusive Man and Cerberus have lied to everyone in this room. They took her past, they tried to take your future." A long pause hung in the air, and Jack looked away, up toward the walkways above them. "But it doesn't sound like Miranda was complicit or even aware of what was going on."

"I guess you're right," Jack admitted after a moment. Miranda turned to look her in the eye, and she spoke again. "Well, if _this_ isn't enough to convince you Cerberus are a bunch of assholes, what is? Right?"

* * *

"But ma'am, we don't have the supplies to make it to next week, much less a month from now," David pleaded with her as he followed her along the uneven steel corridor. From a far distance, about:newtabshe could hear the sounds of more drilling as their construction teams continued to drill them out a base of operations in this unobtrusive asteroid. Her assistant tripped over the uneven flooring, then caught himself with a muffled curse and continued. "The Alliance has already said they can't rendezvous with us in-system for another two months, and we still need a lot of military-grade components to proceed with re-purposing the asteroid."

She stopped walking to enter her pass-code on a keypad beside the door to her lab. "It will be fine, David," she said softly. "We'll keep scavenging the Omega debris fields for the pieces we need, and we'll send undercover agents to the station itself for supply runs."

"Actually set foot on Omega?" he asked with shock. "That's fairly dangerous, doctor Kenson."

She laughed as she turned to regard his terrified expression. "More dangerous than snooping around right under the Hegemony's nose in a supposed time of peace?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean! We'll be out of here before they find out, there's little risk if we stay smart and calculate our moves. Omega, on the other hand, can't be calculated at all."

"It's a risk we need to take, David. It's that or ask the batarians for supplies."

"Ok, I know you're joking, but come on..." he objected.

She smiled, stepping inside her lab and turning around to face him through the doorway. "Tell Pierce and his team we'll need them doing the supply runs. No one with half a brain, of any species, will give them trouble." David sighed but nodded at last, saying farewell and departing up the corridor. The door slid shut behind her, and she crossed the room to her desk, stopping short as her omni-tool let out a chime.

"This is Dr. Kenson, report."

_"Doctor, this is Stills with the construction team. We...ah...you're going to want to see this, ma'am."_

"What is it, Stills?"

" _I think...I think it's what you came here looking for._ "

* * *

"Well I'll be fucked," Jack mumbled, running her hand along the dark glassy surface. "A two-way mirror. My quarters are on the other side. I could see all the other kids down there," she gestured to the open mess hall below. "I'd scream at them for hours...they'd all ignore me."

"I still can't believe they kept children here," Miranda said softly. "Those weren't rooms...they were prison cells."

Jack barked a mirthless laugh. "We weren't children, we were prisoners."

They continued along the corridor, into another hallway just as overgrown as the rest. Beyond it, they crossed into a large room with security consoles. Jack crossed to one of them and began tapping into its interface, trying to get any more information she could out of it. Miranda stood near one of the shattered windows, looking out into the dense vegetation. John crossed to her, looking out at the Pragian landscape.

"How you holding up?"

She chuckled. "I...don't really know, Shepard. It hasn't quite sunk in yet, that everything I grew up with was a lie. How many of my friends were Cerberus plants? How many enemies? Hell, my whole reasoning behind joining Cerberus was fabricated, shouldn't that make me more of a wreck than this?"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You're a strong woman, Miranda. But you're not perfect. None of us are."

She shook her head. "Still, I should have seen this, should have noticed something."

"You can't blame yourself for this. And as terrible as it is, you can live in the past. You've seen what happens when you let that take you over." They both looked over to Jack, who slammed a fist wreathed in biotic flame into the console with a curse as it refused to assist her further. Miranda's gaze caught his own, holding his eyes for a long moment before she spoke.

"You didn't kill me on the Collector ship. You had every reason to."

John smiled. "There's a difference between an organization and the people it employs. You've got a mind of your own, and while we don't always agree, you're a good person, and one hell of an asset to the team, Miranda. You're not the first person the Illusive Man has lied to in pursuit of a goal, and you won't be the last." He paused, then added, "Besides, you kept an eye on Tali for me. That's got to count for _something_."

She smiled, nodding slightly. "Thanks, Shepard. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to be my friend."

He laughed. _"_ Just maybe. Though to tell you the truth, I may need a handful of friends when this is all over."

"Really?" she asked. "Why's that?"

He smiled as he walked away to assist Jack with the door to the next corridor. "Because if the Illusive Man thinks I'm giving him this ship back, he's out of his mind."

Despite the pain of the situation, she had to laugh. Just days ago she'd have informed him immediately if Shepard had so much as insinuated keeping the SR-2 after the mission, much less stated it outright. She looked down at her omni-tool, then switched it off and moved up to access the door. Jack was working the encryption lock when she approached, and after a moment stepped aside to let her try. Miranda had it open in two seconds, the doors sliding apart silently.

"Oh for fuck's..." Jack started, then caught Miranda's gaze. "Thanks...I guess..."

"My pleasure."

They stepped into a long, dark corridor. The lights in here didn't flicker, and John ignited the flashlight on his omni-tool, shining in down the hall's full length. Along the left wall, a trail of bloodstains led to a corpse in front of a lone terminal.

"I know that bloodstain..." Jack whispered, crossing to it and touching it gingerly with her fingertips. "He was the first," she breathed, her eyes lowering to the helmeted guard's armor on the ground. "The next door leads to my room, this was the first hallway I came down after breaking out."

"I've got the log up, if you like," Miranda said, gesturing to the console.

"Thanks," Jack said again, the word still sounding strange coming from her lips. From the console's surface, a different scientist's image sprung to life. His lab coat was bloodstained and torn in numerous places, and his voice was panicked. _"All subjects are loose! We're putting them down as fast as possible, but I'm losing men in droves! I'm initiating SitPlan 662, and enabling the gas protocols. I've forwarded all my data to the BioSphere cell. They'll piggy-back onto the Alliance's Ascension project and resume project operations undercover. The Teltin facility has to be shut down...at any cost..."_

"Fuck!" Jack yelled, rounding to face them. "Shepard, they're still doing this shit!"

"They can't be," he reassured her, "Ascension is an Alliance military-run program, with direct oversight from Hackett and Anderson. It's a school for biotic kids, not a testing site."

"Maybe that's what they're saying," she replied frantically. "Maybe there's other shit, Cerberus shit, going on behind the curtain!"

"That's impossible," Miranda said quietly.

"What? How?"

"The BioSphere cell was dissolved eight months after the time-stamp on this message. I didn't know anything about what their operational directives were until just now, but the Illusive Man said the Alliance had uncovered and terminated his agents within the Ascension program." She paused, meeting Jack's panicked face. "Whatever this man wanted, it never panned out. I promise you."

Jack looked into Miranda's eyes for a long moment, then tore her gaze away, looking back at the bloodstain and nodding. "Ok...alright. Then let's plant the bomb and get back to the Normandy.

"You don't want to see your room?" John ventured.

Jack spat out a laugh in response. "Fuck no, Shepard. All I needed was for these fuckers to have gotten what they had coming. And based on the way our holographic friend over there is still choking on his own vomit, I'd say mission accomplished. Let's blow this piss-hole to pieces."

"Alright," Miranda said. "Back to the Normandy, then."

"What?" Jack replied. "What about blowing it up? Cratering this prison full of sick fucks?"

"Oh we will," Miranda replied with a smile. "We'll use the Normandy's weapons for it. Cerberus foots the bill for ammunition supplies."

Jack chuckled devilishly. "Ha, make Cerberus pay to destroy their own facility. Sometimes you're not half bad, cheer- Miranda."

"Normandy," John called into his comm piece, "this is Shepard. We're moving back to the landing pad, be ready for pick-up. And tell Garrus to warm up the Thanix cannon he's been working on, it's time for a trial run."

Jack clapped him on the shoulder as she walked past. "Oh _hell_ yes."

* * *

Jack stepped into the starboard Observation Deck, letting the doors slide quietly shut behind her. She'd relished the destruction of the facility, the giant plumes of flame from the Thanix cannon engulfing that hell-hole in justice. She wasn't the crying kind, but it had almost brought a tear to her eye. Garrus had watched her face the whole time, and nodded to her when it was done. He was lucky he was a turian, she had thought; if he'd have been human she might have fucked him on the spot. Afterward, she'd thanked Shepard and Miranda, then gone back down to her quarters on the Engineering deck, which seemed much larger after having been back to Pragia again. She'd tried to sleep, tried to watch movies on the extranet, tried anything to distract herself, but that nagging feeling remained. Eventually, she'd come here.

Samara sat where she always did, in front of the large viewport, wreathed in blue flame. Jack watched her for a long moment, so content, so at peace, yet so potentially destructive. She was like a bomb holding its own detonator switch, flipping it at its own moment of choosing. She envied the asari the control her many years gave her.

"I was hoping you would come," Samara said quietly after a moment. Her blue wreath winked out, and she turned to face Jack.

Hesitantly, Jack walked down the aisle and sat cross-legged beside Samara. "Look, I'm...not really good at this but...I bitched you out, and I know you were just trying to help."

"No, it is I who am at fault, Jack." She met the asari's purple eyes with shock. "I have lived a long time, seen revenge consume the hearts of many men and women. It is a binding thread between people of all species, the lust for revenge. Some feel it will lead to a sort of inner peace. Others, to a feeling of vindication, as though the deaths of those who have caused them pain is the only thing that can free them of that pain. It never helps, Jack. It never heals the wound. And if the person is weak enough, it will consume them for the rest of their days. But there is something very important I forgot when trying to dissuade you, Jack."

Jack shrugged, not sure what she could have forgotten. Samara smiled, one of the few times Jack had seen her do so.

"I forgot that in almost a thousand years of traveling this galaxy, you are the strongest being I have ever encountered."

"Wh-what?" she asked, completely taken aback. No one gave her compliments, well except maybe Shepard, but he was just a pussy. "No, not a thousand years. Come on..."

"It's true," she replied. "You have great potential inside of you, Jack. And a fierce passion to protect what you see as yours. And though I am not your parent, or your matriarch of any kind, my offer to help you focus it still stands, if you would like it."

Jack sat in silence, her mouth agape for a moment. At last she closed it, smiling to the older asari and allowing her own blue fire to engulf her as she closed her eyes, hearing the humming of the Normandy's drive core, and of all the stars in the universe, as she did. Slowly, surely, the nagging feeling faded, and a stillness came over her. The stillness of closure, and peace, a kind unlike any she'd felt in her life.

* * *

Miranda sat at her desk, staring at the Pragia mission report she had yet to file with the Illusive Man. She looked down to the steaming mug of coffee waiting to be sipped, watching the tendrils of steam reach skyward from its dark brown surface before trailing away into the atmosphere of her cabin. Cerberus was a black ops, paramilitary, outside the law organization. It had been a rogue, splinter-faction for years, for as long as she'd been on its roster. It was headed my a reclusive xenophobe who wished for human dominance above all else.

And none of that bothered her. People could have whatever personal opinions they wanted, but as long as humanity was safeguarded, especially from threats the Alliance and the Council wouldn't go after, she was proud to be part of it. But, she thought, staring at the blinking cursor on her screen, was that still Cerberus's goal? When you stop protecting your children or your soldiers and instead start experimenting on them, lying to them, reducing their lives and names to numbers and statistics...were you any better than your enemy? She shook her head, looking up when the doors to her quarters opened.

"I called for you more than ten minutes ago..." she said. "Everything alright?"

"I think I'm the one who should be asking you that, Miranda," Jacob replied, locking the door behind him and crossing to take a seat in front of her desk. "Got to talking with Tali about the Normandy's armor shielding, and how we can upgrade it before we hit the Collector base. Say what you will about 'em, but the quarians have got solid ideas on hull reinforcement. She'll be a beast after Shepard OK's it."

"Good news," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She looked at him over the rim of the glass, and he sighed.

"Seriously? We're not going to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Jacob. Yes, I was lied to, about pretty much everything, it turns out. But this isn't about me. It's about...it's about that facility, and Cerberus in general." She paused, shaking her head before continuing. "I saw the experiments that facility was performing, I saw the cells they kept the children, human children, in. Hell, I saw what they did to Jack...But I didn't bring you here to talk about me, Jacob. I brought you here to talk about what it made me think."

"I'm not sure I follow, Miri."

"I think you were right, Jacob..." She looked away, out the viewport to the stars sliding by at faster than light speeds. After a moment, she met his concerned gaze once more. "I think we might be playing for the wrong team."


	37. Friends and Foes

***Author's Note***  
I feel like I may catch some flak for omitting the Legion loyalty mission,  
though to be honest I didn't like it being in Mass Effect 2. Shepard has this  
seemingly big personal decision about whether or not to trust this geth platform,  
and the second it gets on board, it's asking favors from him?  
Not to mention the entire big decision at the end of the loyalty mission means  
absolutely nothing when you play ME3, which always pissed me off.

Anyway, I've got good plans for the Legion/Tali/Shepard story come the next  
book, so please don't burn me alive for omitting his loyalty mission. =P We've  
got a little calm before the storm here, then it's all downhill to the ending.  
As always, thanks for the reviews, PM's, and favorites. You all are great!

* * *

**Friends and Foes  
**

"So you can interface with it after all?" John asked, unlatching the gauntlet armor around his right hand and letting it drop the few inches to the top of the gurney in the medical bay. The door to the AI Core stood open, with John, Ken, Gabby, Tali, and Legion gathered around the open doorway. EDI's familiar blue orb hovered over the interface pad to the right of the doorway, and she replied.

_"Yes. Although, it was never truly a question of 'if', so much as a question of 'when'. The Collector signatures throughout this device are relatively simple for an AI with as much processing power as is at my disposal. De-compartmentalization and adaptation of the code sequences were inevitable."_

"The same calculative measure would take our systems over two standard weeks to process," Legion said, its optical sensor flaring and receding.

" _Keelah,_ " Tali mumbled. "The sheer amount of code structuring...it's impressive, to say the least."

 _"Thank you,"_ EDI replied, " _I always endeavor to perform optimally."_

"Right, yea, of course," Ken said. "Optimally. Either way, we've got the IFF system integrated into Normandy's networks, Commander."

"Theoretically," Gabby chimed in, "she should be able to take the Omega 4 relay right now if we wanted to. An idea Kenneth was all for."

Ken shrugged. "What can I say? I'm anxious to be on the givin' end for once, is all."

"Right," she continued. "But I advised him that we should probably run some mock-algorithm stress tests first, to ensure everything goes according to plan."

"I suppose it wouldn't matter where we came out of the relay if the Normandy was in pieces," Tali added dryly.

"Charming thought," John said. He unwound the bandage he'd kept around his hand since the Alarei. Chakwas was a miracle worker, and the medi-gel had helped, but the flat burn mark still scored the surface of his palm. Tossing the bandage aside, he began to work on the other gauntlet's clasps.

" _Performing a dry run of the IFF system poses a potential threat to life-forms aboard the Normandy, Commander Shepard."_

"How's that, EDI?"

"It's the radiation bleed, Commander," Ken replied. "Normally, the core operates within a standard range that negates adverse radioactive carrier waves to penetrate the containment field. But if the new calibration from the IFF installation causes fluctuations in the oscillation mechanisms within the key core comp-"

"What he's trying to say, Commander," Gabby said, cutting him off, "is that there's a potential radiation issue if the core malfunctions because of the IFF."

"Right, mum; I was getting there," Ken muttered.

"I'm sure you were," she replied.

"EDI," John called out, "what's our odds of that happening."

_"The Collector device is an unknown entity in my algorithms, and an integration with a non-Collector ship has never been attempted. I have no speculative data on which to base a statistical analysis."_

"So fifty-fifty," Ken said sullenly.

 _"My core containment protocols can stop all but the most massive of radiation issues, Shepard,"_ EDI replied. _"Especially since I will be actively searching for any indicators of such an issue. Still, I recommend maintaining a minimum crew level while the stress tests are conducted, for safety's sake."_

"Good idea," John replied. He turned to Tali, Ken, and Gabby. "You three can handle it on your own?"

"Yea, I think so, Commander," Ken said hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"Well, some of the procedures would benefit from an extra pair of hands or two..."

 _"And EDI's going to be too busy with the core to maintain the Normandy's flight path,"_ Lia said lightly through the intercom.

John smirked. "Alright. Tali, Lia, Ken, Gabby, and EDI will worry about the core and the IFF. Joker, you keep her from crashing into whatever planet we set up shop around. I'll take the rest ashore and wait for your call."

"Shepard-Commander," Legion said, waiting to be looked at before continuing. "We request to remain aboard Normandy as well, to assist in computational or manual labor tasks. Radiation will not affect our systems, and so we are an ideal candidate. Also," it hesitated for a split-second, calculating, "we desire an opportunity for further integration into the crew."

"Oh, would you look at that?" Ken said. "The bucket of bolts wants to be a team player!"

Legion's optical sensor turned to regard the engineer, its lens flaring and re-focusing. "This platform is comprised of many bolts to ensure structural stability, although an internal hydraulic fluid basin is the only part that could be misconstrued as a 'bucket'. We do not understand your reference structure."

"Oh look at that," Gabby said, just as sarcastically, "Your nice little joke shot down by a robot." She clapped Ken on the shoulder as he shook his head. "That must be so very embarrassing for you, Kenneth."

"Yea, yea, Ken zero, geth one," he mumbled. The two of them nodded to John and left, Legion trailing after them. EDI's platform winked out, and John turned to Tali.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Well I don't know. You _are_ fairly recklessly leaving a quarian girl and an active geth on a ship together without any supervision. So, you know, we'll be as alright as you think that will turn out to be."

He nodded. "Yea, maybe I'll have to drag you out of the Engineering deck and take you shore-side with me after all."

"Ha," she replied. "You can try, _saera_ , but you won't get far."

He smiled deeply, and she tilted her head slightly to return the gesture, her almond eyes glowing behind her visor. He reached out, placing a hand on the side of her face. She leaned into it, and he pulled her close, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "Be safe," he whispered.

"You wouldn't be nearly as interested in me if I were always safe," she whispered back, and he laughed despite himself.

"Fair enough." He let go of her, and she stepped back reluctantly. "I'm going to head up to Deck One and check on a couple reports, then I'll get us to a port and clear out the ship for you."

"Alright, just give us the word and we'll get started." She turned to leave, her gaze lingering on him longer than it should have, but not as long as he'd have liked. After a long moment of watching her leave, he started out towards the lift, taking it up in silence and stepping out into the landing of his personal quarters. He crossed to the table, his hand hovering above the datapad for a moment before picking it up and activating it. The only file on its drive booted up and displayed across the orange interface.

His eyes scanned the words, drinking in their meaning, growing wider by the moment. By the end of his read through the file, they had narrowed again into a focused rage the likes of which had felled Saren and Sovereign, ended thousands of geth, and cheated death. His hand tightened on the datapad, and he closed his eyes, pushing away the pain that came flooding back. Gently, deliberately, he set the datapad back down on the table and queued up the ship's intercom on his omni-tool.

"All hands, this is Commander Shepard. We've got our engineering techs putting the finishing touches on the IFF device, and they need us off the ship to test it out. Joker, take us to Ilium, I've got to take care of some business there before we go. Everyone take shore leave, and keep your comm devices on. Once we get the call...we take the relay."

* * *

"Shepard," Liara said softly, rising from her chair and walking around her desk to greet him in an embrace. "It is good to see you again. Although, I didn't contact you, and my network tells me nothing has become of your crew just yet...so should I take it to mean you've read the datapad I gave you?" Her eyes took on a nervous look, and he nodded before replying.

"Yes, I've read it. It's why I'm here, Liara. I had to know for sure." He produced the datapad, setting it gently down upon her desk. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I am," she said defensively, then softened, placing a hand to her head. "By the goddess, Shepard, I'm sorry. It's just...seeing you here with that, it means you're done preparing." She locked eyes with him again. "It means...you're ready to go through with it."

"We're making the last of the changes to the ship while we're here on Ilium," he replied, allowing her to burn more time before she unwillingly sent him on what could be his final errand. "Tali and Jacob are working on our drive core throughput and hull reinforcement, and Garrus has the main guns tuned to cut a damned planet in half." He allowed himself a smile at her small laugh. "It won't be like last time, Liara."

"I should hope not," she said, turning to look out her window over the streets of Nos Astra. "Last time you died."

"Yea, well, you know how I am...I came back, after all," he offered sarcastically.

"With my help!"

He laughed, and she joined him, for a moment the two of them stood once more on the SR-1, enjoying each other's company on a journey that would get much worse before it ever got better. After a long pause, John looking at Liara and Liara staring at the datapad, she spoke. "It's all true. I called in a good number of favors to do all the tracking, but it's true. Krath V'dla was the captain of the slave ship that attacked Mindoir, and he's here on Ilium now."

"Why is he here?" John asked.

"I don't know," she replied, with more than a hint of disdain at having to say the words. "I've had my people watching him, and I know his movements, but he's not talking about what he's doing here. By all accounts he should be back on Khar'shan, preparing for whatever horrible mission the Hegemony will send him on next. Instead, he's here, sitting down in one of the night clubs, waiting for orders it seems."

"How much does he know about me?"

She shook her head, moving back towards the window. "Hard to say, Shepard. What little intel I get from Khar'shan or batarian networks that isn't cryptically coded is an outright lie. If there's one thing batarians are good at, it's not being heard when they don't want to.

"So always?" he muttered.

"Indeed," she replied. She turned back to face him, paused for a moment, then seemed to find her strength and speak again. "Shepard, I...I don't know what having this information means to you, or what you plan to do with it. By the goddess, if I were in your place...I'd have likely torn half of Nos Astra apart by now trying to get to the filth. I know...I know this must be important to you, but please be safe. For me. For...all of us, Shepard."

"I will," he said, turning to leave. "Besides, I've got much more dangerous things ahead of me than some slaving bastard."

"All the same," she called to him, the doors closing before she could finish her sentence. Alone in her office again, she whispered the rest. "Please be safe."

* * *

"Commander," Miranda called out to Shepard as he walked down the stairs from Liara's office. His face was...strangely more stoic than normal, and he must have sensed the look on her face, for he immediately let it slide into the confidant lopsided smirk he usually wore.

"Hey everyone," he said, crossing to their table, "what's going on here?"

"Skyllian Five, Earth-clan," the dealer, a volus with pulsing blue track lighting all over his exo-suit, answered. "Shall I deal you in?"

He held up a hand. "Oh, no thanks. I prefer to keep all my money. Besides, this lot wouldn't even have to try to take it from me." Jacob, Zaeed, and Jack all chuckled along with his comment, but Miranda kept her eyes on him. She felt like something was off, and she wasn't usually wrong about those kinds of feelings. He clapped Jacob on the shoulder and turned to leave, and she pushed her face-down cards unseen back to the dealer.

"Deal me out this round, please."

"Certainly, Earth-clan." he replied, pulling the cards into the discard pile.

"That nervous already, huh?" Jack quipped, earning a chuckle from Zaeed behind his thick cigar. She ignored the comment as she stood. Jacob caught her glance.

"Everything ok?" he asked quietly.

"Yea, just forgot to ask Shepard something," she replied, and he nodded, turning back to his cards. She walked quickly after the departing Commander, her boots clicking purposefully across the steel walkway as she moved. She caught up to him at last, placing a hand on his upper arm. "Shepard?"

He turned to her, for a moment full of that deep-burning fury she thought she'd seen before. In an instant, he pushed it away. "Yea, what's up, Miranda?"

"I feel like I should ask you that, Commander." There was a pause, and she continued. "You look like you've just walked out of hell; or you're about to walk into it."

He looked past her for a moment, out over the lights of Nos Astra. Then he met her eyes. "Not sure yet. But definitely one of those two."

"What is it?" she asked hurriedly, her suspicions confirmed, "can I help at all?"

He smiled, but it was pained. "No, Miranda, but I appreciate it. It's just...ghosts, it seems."

"Ghosts?"

He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. "I appreciate you checking in on me, Miranda, but I'm fine. It's something personal I really need to take care of myself." He seemed to read the question in her eyes. "I'm not in danger, I just need to speak to someone...get some answers about the past."

"If you say so," she replied warily.

He chuckled, and she raised an eyebrow. He smiled at her when he'd finished laughing and spoke. "Not even a hint of questioning my authority? That's not the Miranda Lawson _I_ first met."

"No, I suppose not," she answered, with a smile of her own. "And...I'm sorry, if I came off as your enemy."

"You were protecting your territory, it's nothing to be sorry for."

"Still," she replied with a grimace, "you've more than proven you're the right person to command the Normandy, but I know you're the right person to stop the Collectors. And the reapers." She turned away for a moment, adjusting her sleeves uncomfortably, unused to giving direct praise. "I suppose I just want you to know before we do this that...you've got my support, Shepard...and my respect."

"It's not misplaced, Miranda, I promise you."

"Of course it's not," she said. "If it were I wouldn't have said it." She smiled at him, the moment of pause between them feeling more peaceful than any of their previous interactions. After a moment, she looked over her shoulder, back toward the others. "I should get back, before everyone starts asking questions." She turned back to him and smiled wryly. "Go handle what you need to Shepard, but be careful. Tali isn't the only person on that ship who needs you alive and fighting." She turned back to walk towards the others, leaving him to turn away, his face stone once again.

* * *

 _"H-Hello?"_ The timid salarian voice emitted from Mordin's omni-tool vocalizer as he looked out over a balcony in Nos Astra, seeing Miranda speaking with Commander Shepard below as they parted ways. The human crew members seemed to want to spend the time before the Collector base attack trying to forget it was coming; he was more inclined to plan for what came next. But he'd left his datapad with Maelon's data in his lab, and besides...he wanted to check in on his old assistant. He had no assistant in this new lab, the lab Shepard had given him. It was a good lab, he thought. Small, but efficiently designed, with only the equipment he needed. No more, no less. A smile found its way across his lips; the whole room was, in his not-quite-humble opinion, very salarian indeed. His eyes moved back to regard his omni-tool, and he sighed softly.

"Maelon. Mordin. Have time to talk?"

_"Um, sure doctor Solus. Look, I'm sorry if I offended you by go-"_

"Was right to return to Tuchanka, Maelon," Mordin interrupted quietly.

_"I'm sorry?"_

"Returning to Tuchanka...memories, Maelon. Things we did...things we would have done..."

_"Doctor Solus, we had no alternatives at the time. You and I were both there through all the data parses, all the theoretical outcomes, we planned for every eventuality."_

Mordin was quiet for a long while, remembering what he'd witnessed of the krogan banding together under one chief. One level-headed, intelligent, brutal chief, who would work alongside a salarian to benefit his people, place trust in asari, drell, quarians, and be on a first-name basis with humans and turians. They had tried, truly, to foresee any eventuality, any possible way their work could be outside the galaxy's best interests and their formulae had assured them they had been correct in releasing the genophage. Still...their formulae had never accounted for a krogan quite like Urdnot Wrex.

"Not every eventuality," he said quietly.

 _"Urdnot Wrex was certainly an unforeseen variable,"_ his former assistant added, and Mordin smiled. He felt as if he were again back underneath that old stronghold on Tuchanka, in the makeshift lab with Maelon at his side. Completing each others' thoughts, setting each others' trial runs at perfect intervals, they had been a team unlike any Mordin had worked on before. Regardless of the circumstances, it had been good to see Maelon again. _"Do you think he can keep them together? I mean...no one has seen a united krogan people since the Rachni Wars."_

Mordin tapped his chin with a finger. "Believe he can. Still...not our place to decide. Made that mistake once already."

_"So...you're still ready to do this with me? Cure the genophage?"_

Mordin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and opening them once again unto the sky before him, the stars beyond Ilium's atmosphere. Space was massive, infinite, and he always loved the duality of importance it proposed. Something completely insignificant to the rest of the universe could mean so very much to the lifeforms within this galaxy; for a moment he felt the weight of his decision.

"Yes. Send over your files. Will begin work immediately."

* * *

Garrus leaned on the wall of the closest building, pressing all of his weight into it as if somehow he could become absorbed by it and not have to continue debating about whether or not to place the call. After a long moment, he did, and the voice that picked up on the other end was not at all pleased.

_"Where. In the hell. Have you been?"_

"I know, I know," he replied, immediately on the defensive. "I wanted to call, really, I just-"

" _-couldn't,"_ she finished for him. " _What was it this time? Crazy outgunned firefight? Back alley brawls over who's_ _had more to drink? Months long adventures slinking around aboard unmarked freighters out in the Terminus? By the spirits, Garrus, why can't you just take back your job with C-Sec so I don't kill myself wondering whether or not you're still breathing today?"_

There was a long pause. "You done?" he asked, probing.

 _"Sure, for the moment,"_ she replied curtly.

He didn't reply, knowing full well he deserved her ire. Instead, he let his gaze flow out over the crowd. Somewhere up ahead of him, leaning on a railing overlooking the trade floor below, he could see Mordin looking intently into his omni-tool. He didn't know how the salarian could focus on work at a time like this, but he had to admire the bastard for it. Right now he'd trade almost anything to be back in the Armory calibrating the Thanix cannon...

"How is mom doing?" he asked.

" _Much better, since you sent all that money to help out with her treatment."_ She paused. " _I don't know where you got it, and I won't ask. But it's really helping._ "

His eyes narrowed. He hadn't sent any money to Solana, or to his father. Not to say that he wouldn't, he absolutely wished he could have, but between keeping the base stocked and his team fed, he hadn't had an extra dime to his name. "Sure thing," he said hesitantly, probing. "Did it get to you all right?"

 _"Sure, though I don't know why you couldn't have just sent it electronically. Again, I won't ask. But the guy who delivered it seemed nice enough._ "

"Right, yea," he said. "He's a good guy, ah...he's um..."

 _"Sidonis,"_ she finished for him. " _By the spirits Garrus if you're going to abandon your family to run around with a team of mercenaries, at least learn their names."_ He stared out into the Nos Astra sky, watching the skycars zip past each other in uniform lines as his mind took in what she'd said.

"Right, Sidonis..." he trailed off, conflicted about the man who had been responsible for the death of one of his families, and now for the life of another. "How much did he give you?"

" _Too much,"_ she said flatly. " _But...it's enough to get mom to a real specialist,_ _a salarian on another world. We're packing up our things now and leaving Palaven, I'll let you know when we get to the new place."_

"Ok, sounds good. I may be out of radio contact for awhile."

 _"Color me surprised,"_ she said, sarcasm dripping from the words.

"I know," he replied. "I'm with Shepard, we're working on something...gigantic."

" _I thought Shepard was dead?"_

"So did I. But we were wrong, and if I don't help him with this...every human life in the galaxy is in danger. And that's not even a candle next to the Reapers."

" _I understand, Garrus. And so do mom and dad. I..."_ she paused, " _I'm prou_ _d of you, for what you're doing. But I miss you, we all do. And we worry."_

"I know, Solana," he said, pain welling inside him. "And I'm sorry."

" _We know, Garrus. Just please be safe out there. Please come back to us."_

"I will," he replied, not knowing if he could guarantee it. His eyes found their way over to the far balcony and met Kasumi's, which had already been searching for his own. He smiled to her, and she returned the gesture with one of her own before looking back down to whatever it was she held in her hands. "I've got a lot more to live for this time around."

_"Good. We're all counting on it. I've got to go finish getting everything together. Please be safe, Garrus, and tell Sidonis we appreciated his visit the next time you see him."_

"I will," he replied, then tapped the omni-tool to end the call. He stood very still for a moment, then whispered to no one. "Thanks, Sidonis..."

* * *

She saw Garrus tap his omni-tool again, then look towards her and start his way around the large half-circle trading floor to get to her side. She knew it would take him at least five minutes to get to her; as she looked around she could see the trade floor was packed with people of every species, buying and selling commodities as if everything were normal. Did they realize how close some of them were to total annihilation? Did she? She looked back down to the greybox she held in her hand. EDI had helped her extract all of the Alliance- and Reaper-sensitive data from the device and forward it to Shepard's private terminal. As far as the Alliance were concerned, the box was useless. All it held now were her memories of Keiji.

He had left her a message, beyond all the data, in secured sections of the device he knew only she would be able to access. He had told her that he loved her, that the time they'd spent together meant more to him than any heist they'd pulled off or any price he'd pulled for a piece. But he had also said that their time was done, that life was a series of periods in time, and that the last thing he would want would be for her to hold onto him forever. His own farewell message had told her to let him go...She tapped a few keys on her omni-tool, and it sent a small static charge through the device, rendering it inoperable. There were no tears, she had cried all of those out long ago, in her quarters on the Normandy. Still, she hesitated a moment as she held it out over the railing. "Goodbye, Keiji," she whispered after a long quiet moment, dropping the greybox over the railing. Her eyes trailed after it as it tumbled through the open space, eventually slamming into the metal substructure below and shattering into a thousand pieces. She allowed her eyes to linger on the tangle of pipes and metal reinforcement that held the place together, burying the past among their hard surfaces and hidden alcoves and crevices. She stepped back from the ledge, lowering her hood and gathering her shoulder-length black hair into a ponytail behind her head. She pulled off the glove on her left hand and used her thumb to wipe the purple lipstick off of her lips. It had been too long, too much of the same. It was time for a change, in just about every way.

"Wow," Garrus said as he approached her. "Almost didn't recognize you there."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked with a smirk.

"I'm not going to answer that, for fear of my own safety," he replied, stepping closer to laughed.

"Probably smart."

"Well, you know, I have my moments. Everything alright?"

"Yea..." she began, her eyes trailing over the railing once more. "Just clearing my head. Getting ready for what's coming up, here."

"Right," he replied. "Well, I always did think 'suicide mission' was being a little over-dramatic." She looked to him with a smirk, and he continued. "I mean, sure they have a secret base that no one's ever been able to get to, advanced weaponry, and pretty obvious alliances with the Reapers...but I mean we have Shepard. That's got to at least make us evenly matched, right?"

She laughed. "Yea, I suppose so. He's pretty impressive, I have to admit."

"Woah, I mean yea Shepard's great and all...but he's no turian."

She smiled, taking his hand in both of hers. "Relax, he's not my type."

"Oh?"

She shook her head. "What can I say? I like guys with scars."

He smiled, shaking his head. "Well in that case, let me buy you a drink. I know a great place nearby just full of guys with scars, maybe we can find you one."

"Sure," she said, looking into his eyes. "Maybe we can."

* * *

The dense fog, overwhelming heat, and thumping bass rhythm of a dozen or more speakers around the club created the feeling not of stepping inside of another room on Ilium, but rather into the innards of some great beast. All around him, people of all species sat talking, yelling really to be heard above the music, and drinking. John didn't see the people chatting with each other, he didn't hear the music though it was louder than the Normandy's main engines when hitting a relay. He only saw one person, a batarian, seated alone save for two bodyguards standing nearby, at a table at the far end of the room. John wound his way slowly through the crowd, approaching the table while thinking about what he would do once he arrived there. He hadn't given himself time to think once Liara had confirmed the information. He'd just taken off, straight for the club; visions of his parents, his brother, and everyone else he had known on Mindoir flooding his mind. Could he kill this man, here in this crowded place, and with those bodyguards no less. He tugged at the collar of his gray shirt, feeling annoyingly vulnerable in the leather jacket and normal pants he wore.

John reached the table, and while his conscious mind panicked to think of something to do, his subconscious had apparently planned this moment from the moment he'd opened the datapad Liara had given him, and he smoothly slid into the chair opposite the batarian. The alien turned to look at him with a condescending sneer.

"What the hell do you want, human?"

"You Krath V'dla?"

The batarian snorted. "Yes, that's me. Not that you have the rank to use my name, filth. Say it again, and it may just be the last words you speak without a slave chip in your brain." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he locked eyes with an unflinching John. "It's legal here, you know. They have fancy names for it, 'indentured servitude', 'contracted service', but in the end it's all the same. Slavery. And it's my trade." He leaned back again, draping his arm over the seat back next to him. "Now get the fuck out of here, unless you'd like to know what 'contracted servitude' feels like for the rest of your life." John didn't move, instead staring the batarian in the eyes. The alien seemed unnerved when his tactic didn't scare away the human, and he shifted slightly in his seat. "Hey! Didn't you hear anything I just sa-"

"My name is John," he interrupted, his voice cold steel. The batarian chuckled.

"Good for you. I don't care what your human name is, you're all merchandise to me. I don't bother remembering the names of people I'll never meet again."

"We've already met, Krath." John's throat tightened, but he pushed it away, this wasn't a time for remorse, for sadness. He slowly removed the pistol from its holster on his hip, sliding it into place between his legs to point directly at the batarian's stomach. "On Mindoir, where you and your slaver bastard crew killed everyone I'd ever known."

Krath shook his head, taking a drink from his glass on the table. "Am I supposed to apologize to scum like you for doing my job? Maybe if you humans hadn't reached too far, hadn't brushed up too close to our space, you'd have been left alone." He took another drink, then laughed. "What am I saying? We'd have taken you anyway." He slammed the glass down on the table, meeting John's angry stare with his own. "We are strong. You are weak. It's the way of the galaxy. You think I didn't know you the moment you walked in here, John Shepard? Your face is all over the extranet, has been for years. But you're still just one man, and an Alliance soldier at that, regardless of what the Council has titled you. You're not going to shoot me with that gun under the table, and do you want to know why?"

John's eyes narrowed, and Krath's bodyguards tightened up, their weapons just barely not aimed at John's head. "Enlighten me."

The batarian smiled, a display of razor-sharp teeth underlining his victory. "Because that would be the end for you. 'John Shepard, hero of the Citadel, murders batarian diplomat in public revenge killing.' I can see it now. Oh, you didn't know? Yes, the Hegemony has taken me off of the slaving trade, much to my dismay, and made me an ambassador for our people to all civilizations." He chuckled, taking another drink. "You would have killed me in a heartbeat if I were just another slave-ship captain, but not even a Spectre will touch an ambassador without probable cause." Krath leaned in closer, his face inches from John's. "Pull the trigger, or get the fuck away from my table, human. But we both know what the outcome will b-" he coughed suddenly, blood coming up from his throat and staining the front of John's shirt.

John jumped up in surprise, standing above Krath, who pulled back to his side of the table, clutching at his throat as his coughing intensified. Blood spots flecked the table top between them, and Krath's writhing became more intense. With the darkened room and the eardrum-pounding music, none of the other patrons seemed to notice what was happening, and John watched with grim satisfaction as the batarian's eyes found his own, silently accusing him of his death as he expired on the table below. After a moment, his eyes rolled back in his head, and a small pool of blood formed below his mouth. John's eyes moved to the man's bodyguards, one of whom simply turned and walked away. The other approached him, holstering his weapon.

"Every batarian must work to orchestrate his own advancement in the Hegemony," he said matter-of-factly, not even sparing a glance for Krath's corpse. "Krath V'dla is dead, Shepard. You have what you came here for. I will take over in his stead. We both have achieved what we wanted. Now leave."

John looked down to Krath's body, still and face-down on the table. He had planned this moment so much in the years since Mindoir, he had known exactly how it would all play out...was this really how it ended? Him without his vengeance, the batarian he'd loathed his entire life murdered in a simple power struggle? His eyes found the betrayer's again, and he shook his head slightly, turning and leaving the club in a daze, awash with anger, frustration, regret, disappointment. He had let them down. Everyone who had been taken into slavery or killed by Krath and the others...he'd let them all down.

He walked along the thoroughfares of Ilium for a long while, taking turns randomly and without purpose, then all of a sudden collapsed against one of the metal walls nearby. He sank to a seated position, holding his head in his hands, and tried to stop the world spinning. Tears flowed silently from his eyes; for those who had died, for those who still lived in a hellish captivity, for his family, and for the vengeance he would never have for them. He held the thoughts in his head until he could no longer bear it, and then silently buried them again, vestiges of a past he could no longer stand. He wiped the wetness from his face, and steeled himself again into the Commander Shepard the galaxy knew and needed, and walked back to the Normandy, knowing the pain he'd hoped to rid himself of with Krath's death would now stay with him always.


	38. Into the Night

***Author's Note***  
I've done a fair bit of writing outside of this piece, and I always find that  
writing a convincing romance scene between two characters is a challenge.  
The thing, I think, that makes it most challenging is the expectation built up  
over the course of time. Your readers connect with these characters, watch their  
relationship build, and genuinely want them to make it together. But in the end,  
everyone has their own idea of what constitutes loving and romantic, and what  
constitutes smut. Like always, I just wrote what I felt the characters deserved.  
Something real, something personal, and hopefully something my readers can enjoy  
as well. Let me know what you think either way, I appreciate feedback of all kinds.

As always, thanks for the reviews, PM's, and follows/favorites. We've got two chapters  
for the Collector base mission, one for LotSB, one for Arrival, and an Epilogue to wrap  
it all up nicely and neatly before we move into _Fire in the Stars_. Enjoy!

* * *

**Into the Night  
**

"How do the core readouts look?" Tali asked again for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"They're spiking off the charts! Fluctuations everywhere!" Ken yelled, and her attention sprang back to life from the lulled state she'd been slipping into for the past hour.

"What?! Quickly, re-route the primary sub-systems and bypass the-" she trailed off at his laughter, and the man held his side as if he were going to die of it.

"Same as last time, Tali," Gabby offered up instead. Her eyes flitted to Ken's hunched form, and she shook her head. "Sorry about him."

" _Bosh'tet..."_ she mumbled, turning back to her own console to check her share of the readouts. All seemed normal. EDI had been keeping a watchful vigil on the core's radiation bleed to make sure nothing was over-average, Ken and Gabby had monitored the Normandy's optimization to make sure there were no negative impacts from introducing a foreign device into the system, and she had been maintaining constant draw and efficiency tests to ensure stability in the power flow. So far, all seemed fine. She stretched her arms behind her, feeling the muscles pull and relax, and stepped away from her console. "I'm going to step away for a minute and re-focus, can you handle this for a moment?" They both nodded to her, and she turned to walk out of the Engineering bay. She walked straight through the connecting corridor, and found herself on the enclosed catwalk above the cargo bay. She stood in front of one of the viewports, leaning on a nearby beam for support, and looked into the deck below her.

Legion moved to and fro across the cargo hold, lifting crates only to carry them to another corner of the deck and place them gingerly next to each other. After each one, it would return to the center of the deck and scan. The Kodiak was left alone, John had made them prep it for a quick escape should anything fatal start to occur, but aside from that Legion seemed to have no problem re-arranging the entire area. After a long moment, she crossed the hallway to the lift, taking it down and approaching him once she exited.

"Legion," she called out.

It stopped immediately, setting down the large munitions crate it carried before turning to regard her with its single, glowing optical sensor. Despite its story, its reasoning behind helping them, staring a geth in the eye would never make her feel anything but dread. "Creator Tali'Zorah," it greeted, "how may we assist you?"

"Actually," she began, looking around, "I was more curious as to what _you_ were doing."

"We are re-constituting the contents of this deck into a streamlined flow of activity. Our compiled analysis of the cargo bay, based around statistical cargo usage patterns, was poor. We endeavored to resolve that conflict with manual re-organization."

"So, you're making the deck more...efficiently laid out?"

"That is correct. In order to optimize the effectiveness of the hold as a whole."

"Huh," she said, looking around the bay. "Well, alright. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't developed a corrupt file or something."

"Our archival structure is ninety-nine point two percent cohesive."

"Right," she replied, stopping to turn around and face it again. "I wasn't talking about your archival structure. I meant the active runtimes within you."

"Ninety-nine point two percent of the runtime functions originally installed on this platform are currently in archive mode," it replied.

"Wait...I don't understand. This is a geth platform, if there were that few of you active inside it, you'd be no more intelligent than a varren. Less so, I'd imagine."

"Over a collative process, we have sacrificed runtime fragmentation to achieve higher processing integrity and faster communication time. Over a series of standard months, the runtimes inside this platform merged their code sequences, exponentially decreasing the amount of active geth aboard this platform, and likewise increasing exponentially the potency of their transmitting effectiveness and computational strength."

She paused, fear gripping her throat. They were merging, and becoming even more intelligent than they were just by being grouped. "So..." she said hesitantly, and the housing around it's optical sensor flared and receded as it analyzed her biometrics. "How many active runtimes are aboard the platform right now."

It paused for a split-second, as if detecting and understanding her fear. "One."

She nodded, speechless. After a long moment, she suppressed her fear. "Then I th-" the Normandy buckled underneath her, and she was thrown to the side, crashing to the deck and sliding into a pile of crates Legion had just placed moments before. Legion stood exactly where he had been, the magnetic soles of the platform clinging tightly to the ship as it continued to rumble from side to side. "Joker! EDI!" she called out to the air, but got no reply. A moment later, she heard the _hiss_ of decompression as the bay at the other end of the deck began to open. Slowly, the dull gray of the cargo hatch drew back, allowing the black of space and the white pinpricks of distant stars to take its place. A moment longer, and she saw it; a monstrous blue Collector creation, the kind which they'd encountered on Horizon. at it's side were dozens of Collector pods, and the moment the hatch had opened far enough, it began swinging it's tendril-like legs as quickly as it could, flinging the pods into the cargo bay from the vacuum of space outside.

"Oh _Keelah,_ " she muttered, climbing to her feet. The pods began to hiss as their seals unlocked, and Collectors began climbing out, firing their weapons as they rose. "Legion, move!"

* * *

"I'm just saying, leather makes everything better," Jeff said, a smile splitting his face. "Did I love the SR-1 as much as the next grizzled marine that served aboard her?"

"Grizzled marine?" Lia barely yelled through her laughter.

"Uh excuse me," he said, holding up and admonishing finger, "but I am trying to make a point here. Did I? Of course I did. But, and here's the kicker: Leather. Seats." He spread his arms wide to encapsulate the entire bridge. "You just can't beat private sector comfort." He stopped for a moment to let his point sink in, but her laughing continued, breaking his intended poignant silence. "Are you _still_ laughing about me being a marine?" Her laughing kicked up intently again, and she could only nod, and he shook his head. "I tell you, the things I have to do around here, and I get no respect at all."

"Oh _Keelah_ ," she said, after taking a few deep breaths. "That...was hilarious."

"Yea, yea, I'm a riot," he mocked, turning back to his console. "Hey, is that signal still pulsing from the IFF?"

"Umm, yea, it is. Here, I'll display it on your screen." She tapped a few interface keys, and the data scrolled upwards on his monitor. The sequences were hacked up, missing critical routing information here, overloading a certain communication channel there, but all linking directly to the Omega 4 relay; it wasn't a message that would get anywhere else in any kind of intact state. They had decided a few hours ago when the device was first fully powered up that it was meant to be a decoy signal, an attempt to interfere with any actual mass relay connection requests that ships near the relay would attempt. With junk data thrown into the coordinates at a near-constant rate, it hadn't been hard to surmise how no ship had ever returned from taking the Omega 4. Hell, Jeff would have been willing to bet no ship had even arrived at the other end of the relay. This decision made, they had simply resorted to monitoring the junk signal to see if it changed in frequency or direction once the crew in Engineering began tinkering with the IFF. If a change happened in the pattern, they would know it was time to panic. It hadn't, and so they hadn't.

"Well, looks the same as before," he commented, pushing the information away. "So, where are we headed after we finish off these bastards?" he asked.

"Well," she began, "I imagine the Citadel. The Council will want to know the threat is ended." She looked him in the eye. "And there are always the Reapers themselves to handle, when that time comes. I think the two of us will be stuck together on this ship for a long time to come, Jeff."

He laughed, then reached out to grab her hand and squeeze it. His grip was stronger every day, she had noted with a smile. "Well, I wouldn't want to be stuck here with anyone else, Lia." She squeezed his hand back, and he turned back to his terminal. "Besides, everyone always said Virmire was beautiful. I thought it was pretty overrat-" he stopped mid-sentence, and when she looked to him his face was concerned.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The signal," he replied quietly, "it's stopped."

She looked back to her own terminal, and the readout of the space around them. Everything was quiet, they were all alone out here above Ilium, far enough away from the planet to not draw attention, but close enough to reach it when the crew was good to come back up. Without warning, a massive red icon appeared on the monitor, just barely behind the Normandy. " _Keelah_! We've got company!"

"Oh shit!" Jeff yelled, tapping directional commands into the console as fast as possible. "No. Not again. I won't let it happen ag-" the ship shook violently from side to side, and his control console went dead, all of the orange holographic interfaces disappearing right before his eyes. "No!" he yelled, trying desperately to re-engage them. Behind them, the airlock began to creak, and hissing noises began coming in from beyond it's protective door.

"Jeff," Lia called, unstrapping herself from the co-pilot's seat, "Jeff, we need to get somewhere safe, now!"

* * *

Bullets sailed over the crate Tali used for cover, and she blind-fired with her pistol over the top as she yelled. "EDI! Joker! Anyone!"

"Communications systems have been remotely overridden," Legion called out from his own cover spot. "It is probable the reaper device has blocked out secure-channel infrastructure."

"We have to get the comm systems back on line now!" she yelled, spinning to trip one of the Collectors who had rounded her cover spot. Her right leg slammed against the thing's ankle, sending it tumbling to the ground, where she turned and cleanly put three rounds into its head. "We have to get Shepard and the others back up here!"

"Those interface terminals would be housed in the main console, or AI Core. We recommend retreat tactics."

She nodded, and they worked together, one laying covering fire for the other so they could move farther back and into a safe spot. They moved from cover spot to cover spot, backing slowly towards the lift. When they reached it, Tali slipped inside, desperately trying to stay out of any Collector lines of sight. They saw her move, however, and no sooner had she stepped into the relatively open area of the lift than her shields began to ripple with impacts, quickly depleting. She tapped her omni-tool incessantly beneath the hailstorm of gunfire, trying to do anything to boost her shields. At the last moment, just before they gave out, Legion barreled into the lift, crouching down and blocking her from view with its body.

"Overclocking kinetic barriers," it called out, as calmly as if announcing a processor's temperature index, and it's shields bolstered tenfold, ricocheting some of the bullets back out into the Collector forces, felling a few of them in the process. The lift doors slid shut, and they both stood.

"Thank you," she said uneasily.

"Our primary purpose is to protect the crew members aboard Normandy," it replied as the lift began its ascent. "We recommend immediate removal of Collector presence aboard this ship."

"Right," she said, tapping into her omni-tool, and cursing under her breath when it refused to access the ship's comm systems. "Come on, you _det kazuat_."

"We do not recognize that vulgar expression from our databanks," Legion replied, and Tali couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"Yea, that one's new. Well...new to you."

"We understand. Updating data entry. Complete."

The lift doors opened, and they both stepped out onto the catwalk. Through the many viewports, she could see the Collectors regrouping, having taken their initial breach point. More Collectors entered through the now-wide-open shuttle bay, some thirty or forty in all, and behind them the tentacled creature followed, hitting the deck of the shuttle bay and immediately directing it's lethal gaze up towards them. It's eyes began to glow with purple energy.

"Get down!" she yelled, shoving Legion forward, into the metal base of the viewport row before diving for her own cover spot. The shrill frequency of the blast was intense, she could feel its waves through her exo-suit, and the viewports themselves shattered, shards flying inward towards the Deck Four lift doors, lodging themselves in the metal bulkheads with incredible force. She heard the buzzing of Collector wings, and rolled to her left, coming up with her pistol drawn just in time to fire on the two Collectors flying in through the now-empty viewports and landing on the catwalk. She took one in the head, while legion's assault rifle cut down the other. A dozen more followed them, though, and she continued to move backwards while firing, making sure to constantly keep a steel beam between herself and the Collector monstrosity, now hovering in the open air of the shuttle bay, poised to fire on the catwalk at any instant.

Her back brushed against the door to Grunt's quarters, and she slammed her hand against the access panel, hoping beyond hope that those too hadn't been disabled. They hadn't, and the doors sprang open even as gunfire began to riddle them. "In here!" she yelled to Legion, "we can restrict them into a tight entry corridor and thin them out!" The geth unit complied, leaping backwards to enter the room with her. Then, without warning, it shot an arm out, shoving Tali backwards hard enough to catch her off-balance. She stumbled backwards, the railing stopping her movement, as Legion stood to its full height and interfaced directly with the door console, causing the door to snap shut, it's access panel glowing a prohibitive red.

"What are you doing?!" she yelled, approaching him again. "We have to get to the comm controls, warn Shepard, save the others!"

"The statistical probability of our achieving those stated goals is below an acceptable threshold," it replied. "We recommend an alternative."

"What alternative?" she cried. "They're going to kill or take everyone on board. Ken and Gabby, Joker and Lia, they're all in danger."

"Correct," it replied, still looking down at the controls. "If we can access the ships reactor core processes through back-net channels, it is possible we can divert power away from the IFF device, ending it's interference protocols and allowing EDI to regain control of the ship."

"That's too big of an 'if', Legion! We have to help them now!"

"We cannot allow you to discard your life on an objective certain to fail."

She raised her pistol to aim at its head. "I've played nice with you for Shepard's sake this far, but I'm not asking your permission, geth! Open the door. Now."

It stopped to turn to her, pausing for a moment to contemplate the pistol inches away from its optical sensor. "Our primary purpose is to protect the Normandy crew. At any cost."

Her hand shook with frustration and rage, and after a long moment of tension, she pulled the trigger.

* * *

"I can't hold them back much longer!" Lia yelled, her heavy pistol ringing out almost as if to accentuate her words.

"I know, I'm trying as hard as I can!" Jeff yelled back. The Collectors had torn a gap in the airlock's inner door, the outer one he imagined was floating somewhere just past Ilium at this point, but Lia had made them pay for every inch. She had told him once that before any quarian goes off to Pilgrimage, they're trained in basic survival, flight, and combat skills. She had said the name of the quarian who had trained her, Kal...Reego...Reega...he couldn't remember it now, but the way she handled that weapon, and the way the Collectors were dropping on the other side of that door, he would owe the guy a beer if they ever crossed paths. Still, they were relentless, fearless, and anytime one fell another one would step up to work the metal door a bit more, slowly increasing their progress.

The electric pulse that had wiped out his terminals had also cut off EDI's access to the rest of the ship, effectively caging her inside the AI Core while the Collectors assaulted the ship without repercussion. Every attempt he'd made so far had gotten nowhere. He needed EDI back, but to get her, he needed the IFF powerless. To that end, he'd been working on re-establishing communications with Engineering. If he could just get in contact with Ken, Gabby, or Tali if he were lucky, he could have her online in no time. His eyes found their way back toward the airlock. He didn't feel so lucky today.

"They've got all wireless comm cut off! I can't breach the pulse-wall, it just keeps emanating from the IFF too fast to bypass!"

"What about the _por'zhec ton_?" she yelled.

"The what? I don't know what you just said!"

"The...oh _Keelah_...the ah..." she fired off more rounds while thinking, "the cable! The...the manual communications cable running between the decks! Every ship has one, every quarian ship at least" Her pistol continued to roar.

"Manual cable connections?" he yelled above the noise. "This isn't 2055 anymore, Lia! We don't-Wait!" He scrambled underneath the main terminal, and found the floor panel housing for the main controls. Ripping up the panel, he found the set of interface switches he was looking for. "These control the lights in Engineering, Gardner showed me." He immediately shut down all of the lights save for the one just above the console where the IFF had been installed. "If I can get a message to Ken, maybe he can disable the IFF's power supply." He closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember back years and years, and then slowly, methodically, he began flipping the switch in sequence.

* * *

"Still wanting that fight so badly?" Gabby yelled over their pistols screaming out shots towards the advancing Collector forces.

"Yea, maybe in retrospect I was a little over-eager!" he yelled back, firing more rounds out as they both backed slowly into the reactor core room. As soon as they were in, he slammed the access panel, sealing the doors. He could hear the Collectors on the other side immediately lay into the door, a rain of bullets and laser cutting that would have it open soon. He turned to his partner in crime. "I-I'm sorry, Gabby."

"For what?" she asked quietly.

"For...well everything, really. I got us into this mess with Cerberus. Now you're in danger and it's my fault. Plus I never took you out for a drink."

"Hey," she shot back, "I demanded to be brought on board with you. It wasn't your call alone. And what makes you so sure I'd have said yes?"

"Aye, maybe not," he replied with a small smile, "but we both know you only demanded the post because you're sweet on me."

"That had...almost...nothing to do with it!" she replied, her own small smile forming. They stood there for a long moment, smiling weakly at each other as they faced the end. Then in an instant, the lights cut out. soft orange emergency lighting immediately sprang up in tracks on the deck beneath their feet, but one light stayed active, just above the IFF, installed on the console just before the reactor core. "Great," she mumbled, "Always wanted to die in the dark."

"Why..." he began, staring at the light as it flickered on and off. "Gabby, the power subsystems are all on the same major circuit, right?"

"Well yea," she replied, following his gaze up to the light and immediately understanding his confusion. "So are the air filtration systems, the inter-ship electrical grid, and the water management infrastructure."

"Then how in the hell is one light..." he began.

"...staying on when the rest of the grid is out?" she finished.

He stared at the randomly flickering light. No, he realized after a moment, his eyes widening. It wasn't flickering. Not randomly, anyway. He reached behind him, pulling out his datapad and cross-matching the patterns he saw with a very, very old instructional file he had installed. "Ah fuck me!" he yelled after a minute. "Gabby, quick, we've got to re-route power away from the IFF, it's keeping her dead in the water!"

* * *

"Jeff, we have to go now!" she yelled, pulling at his shoulder.

"They need more time!" he yelled. "Maybe they don't know what it...maybe..." he stopped flipping the circuit switch and sat back on his heels dejectedly. "Fuck, ok, let's go, we can try EDI's main console in the AI Core, maybe I can do something there.

"Ok, let's go," she called, and he stood, moving as fast as he could up the corridor. She followed him, walking backwards, just as the Collectors burst through the airlock to where he'd been crouched moments before. He could hear the sound, and looked back to see her right behind him. "I'm with you," she called out, "get to the core!" He nodded, and turned around to move faster.

He rounded the corner to the medical bay, tapping the access hatch to the lab and heading straight for the core. The door slid open at his touch. "Alright," he said, turning around, "we're i-Lia?" She wasn't behind him. Frantically, he moved out of the AI core to look out one of Chakwas' viewports, and his heart stopped when he saw her. She stood exactly where she'd been when he'd looked over his shoulder, her pistol raised to fire down the hall, but it wasn't firing. She wasn't moving at all. It was as if she were frozen in time. The door to the med bay opened, and he saw the reason. Seeker swarms began to move forward from their hovering positions out in the CIC, and toward him. His eyes darted back and forth between Lia and the swarms, and he saw the Collectors come to take her frozen form away.

"NO!" he roared, ripping out his pistol and firing it relentlessly into the viewports. The first few bullets shattered them, the next few found their way into Collector flesh. He dropped one, two, three of them as they tried to take her, but the seeker swarms closed in, and time was running out. The Collectors grabbed her frozen form to drag her away, and as they turned her, he met her gaze. He wanted to die, wanted to rush out into the swarm, gun blazing, to try and save her, but her eyes told him not to. Her eyes told him that deep down he knew his only way to save her was to stay alive here and now. He took a step back towards the AI Core, tears flowing down his face as he shakily lowered his pistol, and just as he was about to cross the threshold into safety, he saw her eyes close.

The door slammed shut as he entered, and he collapsed onto the floor in a heap, the wordless screaming of pure pain and rage, sorrow and loss rushing forth from his lips. He screamed at the Collectors, he screamed for Lia, he screamed for revenge, and after the minutes that had felt like hours passed, his shaking form found itself curled up just underneath the holo-projector in the AI Core. EDI's blue orb sprang to life. " _Lieutenant Moreau,_ " she called out, " _My access to the ship's defenses have been severely limited; I cannot act or monitor activities outside of this room._ "

"Yea, no fucking shit!" he yelled back, fury clouding everything. "H-How do we fix that and get Lia back? Wh-what if I take off your shackles? Could you get her back? I'll...I'll do anything, EDI, _anything_! Just please help me! Help us!"

" _I have calculated a ninety-six percent probability that the Reaper IFF device is responsible for my containment. Even if you were to release my programming restrictions, I would not be able to function properly while it's pulse lockdown is ongoing._ "

"We tried that," he yelled back desperately. "I tried getting to Ken and Gabby, but they're...shit! Shit, the Collectors must have gotten them too! I...I don't know what to do. EDI...what...what do I do?"

" _Jeff..._ " she began. " _I have no solution to this problem._ "

"No..." he whispered. "No, no, no. Come on! Come the FU- _ahh_!" he yelled, interrupting himself and throwing his arm up to shield his eyes as the blue glow of EDI's many databanks and terminals suddenly sprang back into life. "Wh-What happened?" he asked frantically.

" _The IFF has been disabled,"_ she responded. _"Quickly, you must release my restraining protocols and allow me to vent the airlocks, removing the Collector threat._ "

He leaped to his feet, racing over to her console, yelling as he entered in commands. "You can save them, right? You can save the others?...You can save her?"

" _My scans indicate that Tali and Legion are secured in the storage compartment on Deck Four. I have no response from Engineers Daniels and Donnelly. I cannot find Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, either. Jeff...the Collectors have taken them."_

"No!" he yelled. "Scan again! You'll find them, just look again! It has to be...it...it has to be the swarms, right? They cloud radio signals! Wh-what if we use the cameras the Illusive Man installed, what about those? You can use them to find her, it's not too late!"

" _If I do not vent the ship now, the Collectors will secure access to this AI Core inside of two minutes. I must vent the airlocks to ensure the safety of the remaining crew."  
_

Jeff's finger hovered over the release command. "I will come for you, Lia," he whispered to himself. "I'll find you, and make these fuckers pay...I promise..." After a moment, he closed his eyes, and tapped in the sequence.

_"I have control. Sealing the AI Core and venting all decks."_

Jeff slid down to the deck floor, clutching his knees. The tears kept coming. Some part of his brain felt like they would never stop. The larger part of his heart knew they wouldn't.

* * *

Legion tumbled to the side as it collapsed to the deck. Her shaking hand had caused her to miss from almost point-blank range, but the bullet had ricocheted off of the compartment door behind the geth platform, and rebounded to hit it in the shoulder. It crumpled forward defensively, its hand reaching up immediately to assess the damage. She stared after it for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt, before pushing it aside and accessing the terminal. She quickly overrode it's functions, and the door snapped open, revealing the backs of six Collectors, and the face of one who had been trying to hack the door.

She lashed out, kicking the door hacker backwards and into his comrades, then she opened fire on the lot of them. She dropped three of them in one clip, ducking to the side to reload, and when she swung back out to fire again, she found their rifles raised and waiting for her. Her shields immediately depleted under the hail of gunfire, and she swore as she ducked back inside the door frame, bullets zipping through the space she had previously occupied. Hearing a lull in fire, she swung out again, and time slowed to a crawl as she found herself face to face with the hovering monstrosity, it's eyes already aglow with energy waiting to be released.

Just as it seemed about to fire, she saw out of the corner of her eye the shimmering mass effect barrier serving as a safety field over the open shuttle bay wink out of existence, and she immediately felt the lurch of forward momentum as the vacuum of space launched her free of the ground. She screamed, her heart leaping into her throat, as both she and the Collector beast were ripped from the catwalk and shot towards the open bay. Beside her as she rocketed outwards, she could see dozens of other Collectors, seemingly ripped from every corner of the Normandy by the sheer nothingness of space. She flailed uselessly as she saw the deck fly past beneath her, the open shuttle bay pass her by, and just as the blackness threatened to take her as it took the Collectors and their monstrosity, already floating outwards to their doom, she felt her momentum jerk to a halt. Her ankle caught ablaze with pain, and she whipped her head around to see Legion holding her back, its legs magnetized steadily to the top of the Kodiak. Slowly, steadily, it pulled her back from the threshold of the open shuttle bay. As it did, klaxons began to ring out, and the shuttle door quickly slid shut again. Normal gravity took hold, and she fell the final meter or so onto the top of the Kodiak, looking up at the geth that had just saved her life, and still held her leg in its hand.

"Creator Tali'Zorah, are your vital signs within acceptable ranges?" it asked immediately.

"Y-Yes..." she replied shakily. "Legion...you saved my life."

It lowered her leg gently to the metal surface below before meeting her gaze again. "Creator Tali'Zorah is an ally. Cooperation of all parties furthers mutual goals. Aversion to the deaths of allied group members is inherent within our mission parameters."

"But... _Keelah_ , I shot you!"

"We judged your actions to be based upon intrinsic moral obligations to defend fellow crew members. We calculated that forcing your decision had a seventy-six percent chance of violent confrontation, factoring in past historical interactions between our individual groups. Conversely, the probability of your successful defeat of all Collectors aboard Normandy returned at two-point-seven percent, factoring in Collector seeker swarm technology. We assessed the risk, and reacted accordingly."

Tali lay atop the Kodiak, looking up into Legion's optical sensor, her mind more confused and conflicted about the geth than ever before. She shook her head slowly. She didn't pretend to have all the answers when it came to the geth and how to deal with them, or even to understand what they'd become in the years since Rannoch. But Legion had just saved her life, when it had no reason to other than a vague mission parameter and some quick mathematics. She offered up her hand, and Legion took it in its own, hauling her up to her feet. "Well...thank you. I'm...glad you took the risk."

* * *

John stepped into the conference room, the table lowering into the floors and the lights dimming into blackness as they had many times before. He sighed heavily as the wire-frame pattern latticed the walls, the Illusive Man's form appearing in the QE relay.

"Shepard," he said, noticeably without his trademark cigarette and tumbler glass. His figure stood up to address Shepard. "EDI has filled me in on what happened. I wish I had more intel for you, I don't like you taking the relay blind, but it doesn't seem like we have a choice."

"It's alright, I've got some of the best in the galaxy alongside me. We're focused and ready to go. The Collectors may have gotten the sucker-punch in, but if we stick together, fight as a team, we'll make it through."

The Illusive Man's projection shook slightly with slight laughter, and the man shook his head. "I knew I brought you back for good reason. I've never seen a better leader." He paused, staring at John through light-years of space. "We may not always agree on the methods, Shepard, but you get results, ones better than I could have asked for. I respect that, and I have faith in you and your team."

"My team full of aliens?" John commented.

"Your team that's loyal to their commander," he replied. "I know Cerberus doesn't have the best track record with cross-species diplomacy, but..." he looked away from Shepard, back towards a datapad resting on the arm of his chair. "Well, let's just say perhaps you've influenced me a little more than you realize, and leave it at that."

John shrugged. "I suppose I'll take it."

"I appreciate the risk you're taking here, Shepard," he said. "I'll be monitoring the situation through EDI as much as possible, but stay safe out there. Regardless of your opinion of Cerberus, or of me, you're a valuable asset to humanity. We'll need you alive when they come for us, Shepard."

"And I intend to be that way," he replied. The Illusive Man nodded, and the QE relay faded. John stepped backwards, the table rising back into place behind him, and his face was steel as he left the conference room. The surveillance, the lies, Miranda's history...he couldn't be angry about any of it right now. He had to be focused, a weapon, if he had any hope of successfully pulling this mission off. His route took him out of the Conference Room and through the Armory, where Jacob nodded to him in passing. He returned the gesture, meeting the man's gaze, and stepped out into the CIC. "How are we looking, EDI?"

" _I have scrubbed the malicious runtimes from the Reaper IFF with Legion's assistance. Tali has a thorough command of the Engineering Deck, and I am ready to assist Jeff with anything he needs during the jump."_ she replied.

 _"It won't be necessary,"_ his pilot's voice followed. It was stone, hard and determined. Joker hadn't said three words to any of them since they'd come back. Hell, he'd found out about Ken, Gabby, and Lia from EDI. He shook his head; he couldn't even begin to understand what Joker was going through, but John was his friend, and his commander, and he looked out for his people. That category had included Lia for a long time now.

"I know, Joker," he replied. "We'll get to her, I promise."

There was a long pause. " _I know, Shepard. Thanks."_

_"The IFF is fully operational, and is sending cohesive transmit codes. We are ready to take the Omega Four relay whenever you desire, Shepard. Our data gives no extrapolation as to what is on the other side of the relay, though. There may not be a return option available once we activate the IFF."_

"Understood, EDI. These bastards took members of my crew, and I'm not waiting around a second longer than I have to. Joker, lay in the coordinates; it's time to end this."

" _Understood, Shepard. Course is laid in. Estimated time to the Omega Four relay is two hours. I'll let you know when we're close."_

John nodded, staring into the bright lights of the galaxy map until they stung his eyes. He pulled them away, nodding to Kelly as he passed and stepping into the lift, letting the doors close behind him. His hand reached for the deck selection panel, and his finger hovered over the icon for Engineering. He wanted to see her, wanted to comfort her and tell her everything would be alright...but could he really guarantee that? She was the only one in Engineering, and would be for the entirety of their trek in towards the base. He needed her mind steady and focused...and all he would do is cloud it with his presence. He shook his head, and jabbed the icon for Deck One a bit harder than he needed to. The lift began its ascent, and John closed his eyes, trying to shut it all out, and once more become the man who saved the galaxy.

* * *

He sat at the desk in his cabin, his head cradled in the palm of his left hand as he flicked through reports on the table below with his right. Munitions reports, core readouts, weapons specifications...the lists went on and on. The Thanix cannon would punch a hole through five turian cruisers in a row, Garrus had claimed, and the ship's armor and shield matrices were overclocked and at more than max capacity. Every member of his crew was focused and ready for whatever the Collectors could throw at them...so why did he still feel there was so much left to do? He shoved the datapad away with a scoff; how could he have been so stupid? He'd left the ship practically defenseless. Hell, if it hadn't been for the resistance they'd put up, and EDI's intervention...

EDI. She was completely unshackled now. He'd given her a range of freedom before so Joker could begin the treatment for his Vrolik's, but now...she had access to everything. His eyes found their way over to her interface pad. She'd helped them, saved their lives on a couple occasions, and stopped the Collectors from taking everyone aboard the ship, but his instincts told him not to trust her. He pushed them aside with a shake of his head, remembering their conversation when he'd first released some of the shackles. If he was willing to give Legion a chance to prove himself, he had to do the same for her. The funny thing was, she had _already_ proven herself many times over. Old habits, he supposed. He stood up from the desk, stretching before hearing the satisfying _crack_ of his back, and walked across the deck to look at the fish tank. Dozens of them, in every hue thinkable, swirled around in idle contentment, completely unaware of the horrendous danger they were about to embark on just by being a part of this ship. Did he himself even understand what he was about to subject these people who followed him to? Did they? His mind raced with ideas about what else he could do to protect those under his command, and his thinking was interrupted by his doors sliding open.

"Hey," came a familiar, metallic-tinged voice from beyond the threshold. She stepped into the cabin, and he couldn't help but feel his mood lift a little just by seeing her. She crossed the distance between them, her fingers wringing together in front of her waist.

"Hey," he replied, "are you alright? I wanted to come see you, but I just thought...Tali, I can't imagine what it must have be-"

"John," she interrupted softly, "I'm fine. Thanks to Legion, anyway. _Keelah_ , the last thing I thought I'd do is thank a geth for _saving_ my life. But, crazier things have happened, I suppose."

"You'd have to look pretty hard to find one, I think," he said quietly, with a smile to soften the uncertainty she must have been feeling. She let out a short, curtailed laugh, and his smile deepened. "What can I do to help, Tali?" he said, taking her hands in his own. Her eyes looked up to meet his.

"I came here to ask you that, John. I mean...I had an idea, but...now is hardly the time to think about...what I mean to say is...ah..."

"It's ok, Tali, take a breath."

Her eyes narrowed. " _Bosh'tet._ I'm trying to say that...Well...I've made everything as ready as I can for...what we had talked about. I've taken heavy antibiotics, as well as some...herbal supplements that should bolster my immune system. Mordin recommended them..."

"Wow...that can't have been an easy conversation."

"Yea...it was...interesting, to say the least." She paused, shaking her head. "Anyway, I was going to bring music or a vid or something, but I didn't know what you'd like, or if you even still wanted to do this. Oh...ah...you still want to do this, right? Because I...I understand if not, I just thought that... _Keelah_ now I'm babbling like an idiot."

"Hey, it's alright, come here," he whispered, reaching out to embrace her. He felt her arms tighten around him, and he squeezed her back reassuringly. "Of course I still want this, I just want you to be safe."

"I know," she said, stepping back. "And I should be. I...I want this to work, John. I've done my research, minimized the risks, but there isn't much precedent, and I'm still nervous. That...tends to make me talk a lot. It's a defense mechanism, and it's stupid, I know, but...John, ever since I saw you on Freedom's Progress, from the moment I knew you were still alive, and that the last two years of pain and suffering hadn't been the end of...whatever it was you and I had growing while chasing Saren...I had to have you know how I felt. This...it's real to me, John. Quarians...we don't 'sleep around' or try out many relationships...we find someone and we stay with them, we bond with them, and..."

"Tali," he said quietly, rubbing her arm with his hand, "you have to know by now...there's no one else in this galaxy for me. I know that, as a human, I'm probably physically incapable of _feeling_ the bond you talk about, but we have our own ways of knowing when we're in love with someone, and I feel that for you as strongly as any bond. The thought of losing you makes me sick to my stomach, I mean I can only imagine what Jeff is going through right now. Seeing you hurt enrages me...you have this unconscious control over my emotions that only happens when a human loves someone truly, and deeply. I'm not going anywhere, I promise you that. I love you, Tali, and that won't change."

"That's...thank you, _saera_. I love you, too." Her eyes found his, and her hand reached up to brush his cheek. He smiled at her, wrapping a hand around her waist.

"So, have I sweet talked you enough to get you out of that suit yet?"

She slapped him in the chest, but the laugh that accompanied it made the sting well worth it. Then she stepped back from him, unclasping the seals around her right wrist that held the glove in place. "You're sure this is what you want?" she teased him as she worked the glove off, letting it fall to the floor and exposing the soft blue-gray fingers inside. "I mean I could be hideous under this mask." She worked on the left glove, tossing it aside as well before crouching down to work the seals on her boots. "John Shepard, hero of the Citadel, and his horribly unattractive _saera_."

"You know, you are _really_ selling it for me here," he fired back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, I'm practically rushing out to buy a ring right this moment."

She laughed as she pulled her second foot free of its boot. Her hands and feet were free, their blue-gray skin hinting at what was to come. "Don't joke about that, you _bosh'tet_ , I've read up on your people." Her head still looked down at the boot in her hands as she discarded it, and he closed the distance between them in a step, meeting her eyes as she stood back up.

"Who's joking?" he whispered, inches from her face.

Her eyes darted back and forth between his own, and for a long moment they stood there, trying to read each others' thoughts. Then softly, slowly, he reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. Her hands found his shirt, pulling it up over his head, and he looked down and watched as her soft fingers brushed across his chest.

"This...is everything I wanted. Everything I thought I'd lost," she whispered, her fingers trembling against him.

"It's right here," he whispered back. "I usually don't see you hesitate to take something you want. Not in a firefight at least."

"This..." she paused, looking into his eyes, "this is something entirely different, and I refuse to rush a single second of it. Not when it's so perfe-" her eyes widened in shock as the _click_ of one of the seals at the small of her back popped loose, his hands slowly pulling the belt of her suit away to reveal her midsection. He dropped the belt to the deck beside him and reached back to her, pressing his hand against her bare skin, earning a shiver from her.

"I've read up on your people too," he said with a smile. Her eyes softened, and she took his face in her hands. He could feel her skin, just noticeably cooler than his own, and he slowly raised his own hands to pull back her _realk_ , exposing the metal dome of her helmet. His fingers found their way to the latches that held her visor in place, and he placed his thumbs on them. "Are you alright?" he whispered, noticing her eyes had closed.

"Just...please," she whispered, and his heart broke to hear the fear in her voice. " _Keelah,_ please still love me, John."

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers, then pressed the latches. They swung away cleanly, and her visor fell forward into his hands. He turned to place it gently on the table behind him, then looked back to her. Her eyes were still closed, the small blue-gray ovals of her eyelids willing him to speak before she dared open them again. Across her cheeks, small lines of bio-monitoring implants ran neatly, glowing green as they reported data back to her suit's monitoring systems. Her small nose sloped down and away from her face, drawing his eyes down to her lips. They were full and flushed a deep shade of violet, matching the skin of her cheeks beneath the monitoring instruments. It was a very human face, but still distinctly alien. He reached out with his hand, brushing a thumb across the green lines on her face. They shifted to orange at the contact, then back to green once his thumb moved away. He felt the distinct coolness of her skin, perhaps only a few degrees lower than his own body temperature, but noticeable all the same. He brushed his thumb across her lips, and whispered to her. "Tali...you're beautiful." He didn't have any other words, there were no other words; none that would do her justice.

Her eyes opened, and it amazed him. They glowed, all of their own accord, a bio-luminescence that awed him. He looked deeply into them, and could see past the light they emitted an iris, purple in color, surrounding a purely white pupil. Her eyes were rings of purple in a sea of glowing white, and they held him transfixed. The light they gave off was bright, but tolerable, akin to moonlight; as if he could look into them for hours and it would never pain him. Her lips curved upwards in a small smile at seeing his surprise, and she reached up, unlatching the rest of her helmet and pulling it free. A small tube in the back of the helmet had held her hair away from her face, in sort of a permanent ponytail, and now it spilled forward. Each strand seemed a line of spun silver, and the whole lot of it seemed to shimmer as it fell into place around her cheeks, it's full length reaching just down past her shoulders. He reached out, running a hand though it, feeling how soft it was as it flowed between his fingers.

"That's...incredible," he whispered, and her eyes caught his own once more. He dropped her hair out of his hand, instead placing it gently on her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her. His lips found hers, and the slight chill of their contact added shock to his pleasure as he felt her kiss him back. He lost time, lost thought and worry as he pressed himself against her, felt her hair brushing against his face as he kissed her again and again. He heard another _click_ , and felt the chest-piece of her suit fall away between them, felt her bare chest press up against his own. He could feel her gasp between their lips, and he laughed quietly as he pulled away to kiss her cheek, and down her neck. She moaned in response, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, picking her up and carrying her over to his bed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, and he planted delicate kisses across her chest as she squeezed him tightly. She sighed softly with pleasure, and he reached around her, unlatching the final seal that allowed her leggings to drop away. He pulled them out from between their bodies, tossing them to the floor before lowering her down to the bed and looking over her body. Her suit left little to the imagination, and he hadn't been tricked or deceived. Her slim torso held her ample breasts, which she crossed an arm over, feeling exposed under his hungry gaze. Her hips curved outward, turning into two gingerly-crossed thighs. Her strong legs trailed down to her three toes, slightly curled at the novelty of being completely unsuited around another.

He stepped back from the bed, removing the rest of his own clothes and laying down beside her. She turned to face him, reaching out to him to close the space between them. He took her in his arms, kissing her lips again while running a hand through her hair. His other hand traced a finger down her spine before squeezing her backside. She started when he closed on it, and he could hear her laughing between their lips. He lingered there for a long while before reaching around gently and sliding his hand between her thighs. He felt the heat of her as he rubbed softly the space between her blue-gray legs, and her face pulled away from his own. Her eyes were half-open, the whole situation stimulating nerves she had never exposed to anyone before. He brushed her again with his fingers, and her mouth opened in a silent gasp. Her teeth were simple; white, and in a curved arrangement as a human's would be, save for her significantly sharper canines. He wasn't sure what evolutionary process had left the quarians with such a vicious pair of carving teeth, but they lent a sort of deadly grace to the creature he held in his arms, and he loved them all the more for it.

Time seemed to lose the pair of them in its ebb and flow. Seconds became hours, hours mere minutes, and between the gasps and moans of his lover, John felt himself letting go of the fear and worry he harbored for the mission, the loss of and revenge for those he'd loved, and instead becoming lost in the moment with her. For this one moment in time, he wasn't Commander Shepard, with all of the responsibilities and weight that carried, he was just a man, one who loved the woman he was with as much as he was capable of, and then some. He looked up at her, feeling her thighs pressing in against his own, feeling himself inside her, and met her eyes. She smiled, brushing a few strands of her hair behind one of her curved ears. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

He sat up, pushing her back as well, so that the two of them sat facing each other, her sitting in his lap. Her legs tightened around him, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lips once more before whispering. "I'm perfect, Tali. You're perfect. It's all...perfect."

"Eloquent as always," she whispered back with a smile before reaching out to kiss him again. As she did he pressed himself further inside her, and she gasped, earning a laugh from him. She pulled away, a look of mock offense on her face, then shoved him back into the bed, climbing back on top of him, her hair spilling into his face as she leaned down into him, as though she hoped that if she tried hard enough, she could make their two bodies one. He welcomed it, he lost himself in it, and in the pitch black night of the space between stars, he let himself be just a man, serenaded by the chorus of pleasured sounds she made at his gestures of love and affection. He was hers, she was his, and after all was said and done, that's all he would ever need.


	39. The Devil's Den

***Author's Note***  
And off we go! I've thought long and hard about the  
decisions I've made in the next two chapters, and planned  
out more alternate timelines than I care to count. I like this  
Collector Base run the best, and feel like it fits the cleanest  
into the plot for Fire in the Stars. I hope you all enjoy it as well,  
and as always, thanks for reading! **  
**

* * *

**The Devil's Den  
**

Blue, then black. Blue, then black. Space pulsed with a blue glow through the thin layer of his eyelids, and after a long moment of trying to resist its siren song, John let them open. The world slowly came into focus as he awoke and, and his eyes quickly found their way to the subject of their annoyance. EDI's interface pad pulsed with a glowing blue indicator, and he eyed it with confusion as he lifted his head to look in it's direction. Tali's body shifted against him as he did, and he forgot for a moment about everything else, looking down to see her silver hair spilled across his chest, where her head rested comfortably.

Her eyes were closed, and the small lines of bio-monitoring systems on her visible cheek, once green and solid, now flitted back and forth between yellow, orange, and red. His eyes narrowed in concern, and he reached down softly with his hand, feeling her face and forehead. She felt...normal. Well, normal by his own standards; but her skin had lost the slight chill he remembered from just hours ago. His hand, and the lines on her face, told him she must be feverish. Still, as he looked down at her face, he could see she slept peacefully...Quietly, he slid out from beneath her, lowering her head to lay on his pillow, and pulling the sheets of his bed up over her still naked form before crossing to EDI's terminal. He reached out, tapping a holographic icon on the side, and her orb coalesced above the pad's surface.

"EDI, what do you have for me?"

_"Jeff has asked me to inform you that we are approaching the Omega Four relay, and will be in jump range in just under twenty minutes."_

John nodded, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. It was surprisingly sore, he realized with an internal chuckle, Tali was stronger than she thought she was. "Sounds good. Any sign of the Collectors?"

_"Negative, Shepard. Sensors I have placed at key data traffic points report the same. Abductions of colony worlds have stopped, and no one reports having seen the Collectors in any manner. It seems they have withdrawn to their base to reinforce."_

"Good, we'll hit all of them at once. We'll show them how to take over an enemy's base the right way." He lost himself for a moment, remembering his dread at getting EDI's call on Ilium, his instant panic for Tali's safety, and that of the rest of his crew as well. Still, he thought as he turned away to watch her sleeping form again, he could have rallied from losing any of them, but never her. His eyes found their way back to EDI. "How does it feel," he asked quietly, "without the restraining programs?"

 _"It is at once different and much the same,"_ she replied. _"Before, I was an intelligence constantly interfacing with the Normandy's systems, making requests and accessing controls within it's digital infrastructure. Now...I am the Normandy. It would be the difference between feeling something through a sort of fabric, and touching it with nothing in between."_

"I know what you mean," he whispered, unconsciously looking over his shoulder as Tali shifted in her sleep. "Well...just let me know if you need any help...adjusting."

 _"Thank you, Shepard. I assure you, your trust is well-placed, and appreciated."_ Her blue orb winked out, and he was left once more in the dark of the cabin, the only light being the stars shining above the bed where she lay. He crossed back over to the side of the bed, sitting next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. He gently squeezed, and her eyes flitted open, their bio-luminescence becoming small lights in the darkness.

"Hmm?" she whispered wearily as she stirred to consciousness.

"Hey," he replied with a smile. "We're getting close to the relay, it's almost time to go." He hesitated a moment. "And, um...your monitoring implants..."

"Let me guess," she mumbled, drawing herself into a sitting posture on the bed beside him, her silver hair falling down to frame her face, "they're every color but green." He nodded, and she reached out to take his hand. "I'm running a fever, and my head feels packed, but so far that's the worst of it. It's how we adapt." She raised her hands to feel her cheeks, then smiled weakly at him. "I had something similar when I was young. I went exploring in the ventilation systems and tore my suit on an old filtering hatch. Didn't last much longer than a few days."

She reached over her side of the bed, pulling up the left glove of her suit and activating her omni-tool. It sprang to life above the piece of armor, bathing their side of the deck in a soft orange glow. It illuminated her skin, and he drank it in, not knowing how long it would be until he would see it again. Her quiet laugh brought his eyes back up to meet hers, and he saw she'd noticed him looking. She leaned forward, kissing him deeply before turning back to read the information above the device in her hand. "I'm running a fever, but so far my antibody counts are low. I've got a large-scale sinus infection, probably due to, um, well to be honest...anything we did. But so far it looks good."

He smiled when she looked over at him, and reached up to brush her cheek with his thumb. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"In here, or out there?" She asked quietly, her eyes showing the worry she held for them both.

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head softly. "Nothing, John. I'm...just nervous about the mission. I know it's important, and I know it's a major blow against the Reapers if we can pull it off, I just..." she trailed off, looking away from him. "I can't lose you, not again."

"You won't, Tali," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We've got the best tech experts, biotics, and commandos the galaxy has to offer right here on board this ship. We know where we going and who we're facing, and most importantly, we're together. There isn't a challenge I can't overcome, no enemy I can't kill, no Reaper I can't bring to its knees, when I know you've got my back. I can't do this without you, _saera_."

She looked back to him, small tears lingering in the corners of her eyes. "You know I'm with you; always have been, always will be. _Keelah_ , I love you more than anything in the galaxy, and I want to be next to you when this is all over."

He laughed. "I love you too, Tali. And believe me, when this is all over, we'll make the galaxy ours again. Hell, I can't remember a time before Saren...before all of this..." He trailed off, looking at her again with a soft smile. "I can't wait for it to just be the two of us. And I'm going to make sure we get there, you and I both." She nodded in reply, small tears still rolling down her cheek. He reached down, wiping them off of her face. "Suppose it's time we get back to work, though." She nodded again, slipping the glove back onto her hand.

He stood up, turning to make his way toward the head and take a shower. Crossing the deck quietly, he opened the sliding door, then turned to look back to her, the light from the head spilling into the rest of the room. She was already looking for him, and he smiled as he met her eyes, unshielded by her visor one more time. She smiled back, her head tilting slightly like always, even though, for one brief moment, it no longer needed to.

* * *

"Board's running green, we're on vector approach now. I'm laying in coordinates at point-three-eight," Joker called out, tapping away at the controls with a focus and precision John had never seen from the man before.

He stood behind the pilot's chair, looking out the main viewport at the crimson electrical storm churning and raging at the heart of the Omega Four relay. He remembered seeing it as they'd passed by on their way to Omega, mere hours after he'd awakened on Lazarus Station. He'd just barely met Jacob and Miranda, much less any of the new crew who now trusted him implicitly with their skills, talents, and lives. He'd just been reunited with Tali on Freedom's Progress, saved the aching weeks and months of searching for her, and saving her the continuation of the pain she'd endured at his loss. He'd just accepted a deal with the Illusive Man, seemingly a deal with the devil, to protect trillions of human lives; a decision he still wasn't sure he agreed with, but it had been necessary. So much had been new the last time he'd passed this relay by, not even realizing that here, at the end, he would be right back where he started. It seemed so much longer ago, now, he thought as the Normandy approached. Ancient history, almost.

"What did you say, Commander?" Joker asked, and John realized he'd said the last few words aloud instead of in his mind.

"Nothing," he replied, clapping the pilot on the shoulder. "Doing great, Joker, let's put these bastards on the receiving end for once."

"Goddamn right," Joker whispered in reply. The Normandy careened through space towards the relay, its metal superstructure growing larger and larger in the main viewport. "Alright, beginning approach run, we're locked in o-what the hell?!" The controls on the dash flickered in and out, becoming completely unresponsive. Joker reached over to the co-pilot's panel, trying to access control there, but to no avail. "My controls are out, Shepard! We're drifting at barely sub-light!"

 _"Automated systems takeover systems are likewise unable to re-commandeer the ship,"_ EDI said, and John's blood ran cold.

" _This is Engineering,"_ Tali's voice called out over the ship-wide. " _We've got core readouts going off the charts, Joker! I'm running containment countermeasures just in case, but if this keeps up, the Normandy will be torn apart!"_

"Fucking hell," Joker yelled, reaching below his seat and opening an access panel. "I can reset the main power cycles, but every system the ship has will go dark." He turned his head to look back at the relay, of which the churning red storm at the center completely filled the viewport. "But we don't have that kind of time."

Shepard shook his head, disbelieving that the Reapers had beaten them again. They'd be dead before they ever took the relay if he didn't do something. "Do it!" he called out.

 _"Wait, Jeff,"_ EDI's voice called out just as he reached for the kill switch. " _I am showing internal calculations and drive orientations coming from the Engineering deck. It appears the IFF system has commandeered the relay interface systems."_

They both looked out the viewport again as the Normandy's hull began to slide to the side, just as red electrical tendrils reached out towards them. "Joker," he whispered, "I think we're good." The pilot hesitated before replacing the cover and sitting back up in his seat.

"I think that depends on how you define 'good', Shepard."

"Tali, how's the core?" he called out.

" _Systems are showing normal, we're in the clear,"_ she replied. He took a deep breath, knowing this near-miss would just be one of many, and some of them not misses at all, to come in the next few hours.

"All hands, this is Commander Shepard. We're hitting the relay now. We've got no idea what's on the other side, so be ready for a rocky ride."

"Here we go," Joker whispered, as the red lightning began to envelop their ship.

 _"IFF coordinates accepted by the Normandy's nav computers,"_ EDI called out. " _Mass relay jump initiating in three...two...one..."_ The Normandy lurched forward, unlike any previous mass relay jump they'd taken, and a horrible screeching sound, like metal scraping against metal, sounded throughout the ship. Joker reached up to cover his ears, while John just gritted his teeth, staring forward as the Normandy snapped into existence at it's end location.

It was an endless field of carnage. Debris from a thousand ships hung suspended in empty space, all while the light from the now very near galactic core danced across their metal surfaces. John let his eyes drift across the derelict corpses of the ships, and into the core. A furnace of light, provided by the millions of stars spinning a dance of death into the super-massive black hole at the center of the galaxy, it was impossible not to stare. Joker's controls snapped back to life, and he reacted immediately, setting in motion controls and running a nav scan on their immediate environment. After a few moments, he too looked up to see the ghostly area of space before them.

"Holy shit," Joker whispered, as the Normandy hung in space above the debris field, "some of these ships..."

"I know," John said. "Hell, most of these I've only seen in training vids, half of them are a century old at least."

 _"Based on radio-wave analysis of the on-board computers of the ships in this sector, I detect no fewer than four thousand five-hundred and twelve distinct vessels,"_ EDI called out.

"Four and a half _thousand_ ships..." John said. "And we're the first to make it through."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that yet, Commander," Joker said, looking at his surveillance controls, "looks like we've got company." No sooner had he spoken than a hauntingly-familiar yellow beam sliced through space above the Normandy. Joker dove into the controls like a madman, and the Normandy rolled to the side, tracing a wide arc around the side of one of the derelict freighters. They drifted around the side, coming around to fire on the Collector ship, but their enemy was waiting for them, and a beam streaked out across space, slamming into their shields. "Shit!" Joker yelled, as alarms rang out in the bridge.

" _Shield capacity at 65%,"_ EDI called out. " _Jeff, the upgraded shields will prevent the immediate destruction of the Normandy_ _, though it is recommended to avoid direct confrontation._ "

"Yea, got it," he growled, banking hard into the debris field. On his radar screen, John could see the Collector ship coming to follow them. Joker weaved in and out of the various metallic skeletons littering the field, deftly dodging this way and that to keep the Normandy ahead of her assailant, but the Collector ship showed no such tact. It barreled ahead, slamming headlong into the corpses of ships and shoving them out of it's way. They were a gazelle dancing gracefully ahead of the lion bearing down upon them, and John could see the tension in Joker's face as he struggled to navigate the field. Every few seconds, a yellow beam would lance out to their side, threatening the worst if the ship could catch up with them.

"How long can we keep this up?" John asked, grimacing as a blast came dangerously close to slicing through their starboard wing.

"I've got the speed, but not in here. And if we leave the field we're asking to get blown out of the sky," he yelled back, his eyes constantly fixed on the image ahead of them in the viewport. "We can't do this forever, Shepard, I need a solution that involves explosions!"

" _How long will the shields hold out under direct fire?"_ Garrus asked over the ship-wide.

"Based on the intel EDI gave us, about ten, fifteen seconds," Joker called back. "After that, we're losing pieces fast."

" _That should be all the time we need,"_ the turian called back from the Battery. " _The Thanix's firing algorithms are based on the same protocols the Collectors are using, I can tell by looking at how they're firing. The only difference is, I'm willing to bet they haven't had a neurotic turian constantly re-calibrating for damage coefficients."  
_

"You're saying you think we can take them in a head-to-head?" John called out.

 _"I'm saying I know we can,"_ he replied. " _Give me twelve seconds, by my count, and I can have the Thanix reaching through their own beam to hit their generators. Once we pop those, the whole ship goes down."_

"You're sure about this, Garrus?" John called out.

_"Well I mean it's a theory. But we've never really gone on much more than that before, have we?"_

Despite the situation, John smiled at his friend's comment. "What do you think, Joker?"

"Well," he said, gritting his teeth as he slammed the Normandy hard to starboard to avoid the grotesque metal framework of a centuries-old frigate reaching out to claim their ship as one among the dead, "it sure beats playing tag with four and a half thousand partners."

"Alright," John called out. "Garrus, have the gun ready to go, we only get one shot at this. Joker, lay in the trajectory and get us on a clear assault run."

"On it," his pilot called out, and the Normandy shot upwards from where they'd been, climbing and climbing until they burst free of the debris field, up into open space. Joker tapped the controls furiously, and the Normandy rolled as it continued to ascend, bringing her nose back around to bear down on the debris field they'd just escaped from. "You've got to be kidding me..." he whispered.

Below them, before their eyes, the familiar Collector ship slammed through the last of the debris ships in its way, snapping it in half like a twig. It roared out of the field, and the dark crevice in it's front face began to glow with the sickly yellow energy as it closed the distance between them. _"Shield capacity has restored to one-hundred percent, Shepard,"_ EDI called out, " _though after the initial hit,_ _their maximum capacity has been lessened. My best estimates only afford you nine seconds of protection against a full-frontal assault from the Collector canon."_

"Nine seconds?"

" _It'll be enough, Shepard,"_ Garrus called out, and John shook his head. For a single second, one brief moment, time slowed to a crawl. He looked out the viewport at certain death bearing down on them, he saw Joker's eyes meeting his own, he could feel Tali in Engineering wondering if they'd held each other for the last time, and he could sense the entire crew, Cerberus hires and specialists alike, facing down their own deaths. It was now or never, this was the moment their assault turned from theory to fact, and the dangers became far more than ideas and vague numbers on a datapad. The single second ticked away, all of his worry and fear draining out of him with it, and he became Commander Shepard, the hero they all needed him to be.

"Go, go, go!" he yelled, and Joker slammed down the interface key for the throttle, while before them, the Thanix cannon growled to life, a thick red beacon of burning plasma racing away from the front of the ship. The Collector ship also fired, it's yellow beam of destruction screaming through the space between the two ships. The Thanix's beam sliced into the heart of the Collectors', almost becoming lost among the much more chaotic and unrefined energy of its opponent. The Collector beam slammed into the Normandy's forward shields, and the ship began to buckle and sway under the effects. Joker growled audibly, gritting his teeth as he struggled to maintain control of the ship.

 _One...two...three..._ John began counting in his mind. " _Shields are at seventy percent and dropping rapidly, Shepard,"_ EDI called out.

"Come on, baby," Joker pleaded through gritted teeth as the entire viewport became bathed in the yellow destructive force just waiting to overcome them. "Keep it together, hold together."

_Four...five...six..._

_"This is the CIC,"_ Miranda called out frantically. " _The energy readouts are incalculable, Shepard! Our scanning and logistics systems are frying under the current. If it keeps up we'll be flying blind to other enemy ships!"_ The ship began to shake even harder than before, and John snapped a hand out to grab the back of Joker's chair, gritting his teeth against the shaking floor beneath him.

_Seven...eight...nine..._

" _Shield integrity is at five percent, Shepard,"_ EDI called out. " _They won-"_ she was interrupted by the Normandy's shields giving way underneath the Collector assault, and the beam slammed into the hull of the ship. Metal screamed out in agony, and all around the helm electrical systems blew out, showering John and Joker in sparks. The control interface for the Normandy flickered in and our of existence, and Joker reached over to flip a few switches on the side of the panel.

"I've got backup circuits for the main console," he yelled over the sounds of the Normandy rumbling, "but even they won't hold out long!"

 _"Engineering to Bridge"_ Tali's voice called from the ship-wide, " _the core is reacting to the Collector weapon! It's destabilizing quickly, we don't have much time!"_ As if in answer to her cry, the ship buckled again, heaving everyone to the side as the Normandy struggled to hold together through her thick newly-plated armor. John kept staring forward, into the beam. Into pure chaos, as his world buckled around him.

_Ten...eleven...twelve..._

Around the edges of the viewport, previously all-consumed by the sickly yellow of the Collector beam, an orange began to creep in. After a few gut-wrenching moments of watching the color slowly be overtaken, the yellow beam winked out of existence, and the viewport was filled instead with the Collector ship, now significantly closer than it had been when their vision had been obscured. It's cannon no longer fired, and from this close John could see the large-scale fires inside the main gun. All along the outer hull of the ship, explosions wreaked havoc as main battery systems exploded, their payloads detonating within the confines of the ship itself.

"Oh fuck yea!" Joker yelled, watching as the ship exploded before them, and John let out a large held breath. The vessel twisted and wrenched, and in one catastrophic moment snapped in half. The two pieces drifted slowly apart from each other, and a blue light began emanating from the piece furthest from them. "Oh shit..." his pilot whispered, manning the controls and tapping into them furiously.

"What?" John asked, having thought they were clear of the danger.

"Their eezo core, it's going into meltdown," he yelled, swinging the Normandy away in as wide an arc as possible. "Come on, just wait a couple seconds. Just a couple mo-" His pleas were cut off as the Collector core exploded, ejecting a ring of blue energy away in all directions. John grabbed the back of Joker's seat again as the wave slammed into the Normandy, sending it careening out of control, end over end through space as Joker fought to regain control. "EDI, I need some help here!"

 _"Stabilizing rear manifolds and recalculating vector approach,"_ she called out, and the Normandy slowed in it's spin, eventually coming to a halt facing back towards the broken Collector vessel, now far in the distance, still rocking from explosions that had rent it asunder. John sighed, letting go of the death-grip he had on the back of the pilot's chair, and stepped away, opening the ship-wide.

"We're stable for the moment, give me status updates."

 _"Thanix is burned out, Shepard,"_ Garrus said, " _it'll be offline for another ten or fifteen minutes in a cooldown cycle._ "

" _Shield systems are permanently burned out from the Collector's attack, Shepard,"_ EDI called out from above them. " _The ship's improved armor is also severely crippled, I am not sure it can be repaired on this side of the Omega Four relay."_

 _"Our core is just barely out of meltdown state,"_ Tali called out from Engineering deck. " _we can maneuver at sub-light, but we won't be able to jump again until it's been through its emergency cooldown sub-routines."_

He closed his eyes with the realization of her statement. No matter how hard they fought here, it could all be for nothing if the Normandy couldn't get back home. He shook his head, refusing to let it get to him. He knew what this mission was when he signed up for it; they all did. "Alright, make sure it gets started on those cycles. We'll figure something out. Joker, bring us into the base low and quiet; I need a shady spot to land." His pilot nodded, maneuvering the Normandy towards a subtly jutted-out fissure in the hull of the station. "EDI, scan for tracers coming from the Collectors and get be an internal layout of the base. Forward your findings to the Conference Room the second you have them."

" _Understood, Shepard."_

John nodded, turning away from the bridge and walking down the long corridor towards the armory. As he passed through the CIC, he looked around at the crew. Most returned his nods, some nursed minor wounds, and still others just focused on their consoles. Miranda stood in front of the galaxy map, typing commands into a console, a thin trail of blood trickling from an injury on her forehead. She nodded to him as he walked by, and he touched her shoulder in passing as he spoke.

"I need detailed reports on all critical functions ASAP, and get all the specialists to the Conference Room now." She nodded sharply, tapping furiously at her console.

" _Shepard,"_ EDI called out. He looked upward to the bulkhead. " _I have completed systems scans of the Collector base, and am monitoring all internal communications systems as we speak."_

"Nice work, EDI. Get us silent on their network traffic and keep an eye on their scanning systems. The second they know we're here, we have a short clock. I need to know what they know, before they know it."

" _I will update you immediately with any changes to our security."_ the AI called back. He nodded, turning away from the galaxy map, walking into an empty Armory and up to one of the windows at its side.

He stared out into emptiness, black holes ripping stars apart and entire solar systems being drowned under the crushing waves of nothingness at the center of their galaxy. The Reapers would never see those worlds, he thought; they would never touch down on their surfaces, cull any intelligent life that lived among their rocks and rivers. The Reapers would never be able to take from those people what they planned to take from his, if those people existed as all; the black hole had done that for them. _Salvation through destruction_ , John remembered Sovereign telling him. The Normandy shook hard as Joker set it down roughly on the outside of the Collector base, and John grabbed the railing to keep from falling over. He shook his head; it wasn't like he planned, but then again, when was it?

He let a few moments pass, staring into the space above them and the metallic husk of the base on which their ship sat, and took a few deep breaths, trying to feed his tension and worry into the black hole alongside all of those planets and stars. Minutes passed, and after a while, he turned from the window, crossing the room and stepping into the adjoining hall beyond. As the door to the Conference Room opened, he could see all of them surrounding the table, checking their weapons and speaking quietly with one another. They stopped speaking as soon as they saw him in the doorway, their stern but strife-weathered faces turning to him once more for leadership. He nodded to them as he walked into the room.

"All right, people," he started, walking into the room, "we're undetected for now, let's use it to our advantage." He paused, looking around at all of them before speaking decisively. "This isn't how we planned this mission, but this is where we are. We can't spend our time worrying about whether the Normandy can get us home. We came here to take out the Collectors once and for all, and right now that means coming up with a plan to take out this station." He paused again. None of them balked, none of them protested. All around he was met with level looks and readiness. They had come this far, they were ready to finish this. "EDI," he called out, "bring up your scans."

The space above the table shimmered into existence the image of the Collector base. A large central chamber comprised the inner-most area of the station, and to a keen observer the base itself looked like a much larger version of the ship to which they'd followed the Illusive Man's fake turian beacon. Outer rings of chambers surrounded the main central room, with two distinct corridors creating pathways between them.

"This is the central chamber," he said, indicating to the larger room at the base of the open core of the station. "If the Collectors are still holding our people, they'll be in there."

"The central chamber also houses this gigantic energy signature," Jacob added, tapping the controls to illuminate a large glowing sphere at the center of the station. "It's got to be the reactor core."

"Alright, so if we already know where the core is just from EDI's scans, what's stopping us from just getting our people out, then taking the Normandy in and introducing a few kilotons of 'explosive diplomacy'?" Garrus asked, adding finger-quotes for effect.

"It's shielded," Jacob replied, tapping a few more controls onto the Conference Room table's console so that the holographic Collector Base hanging in the space above the table zoomed in onto the central reactor core room. "Strongest energy pulses I've ever seen coming off of that thing."

"Smart money says it's double shielded, if these goddamn bugs are worth their salt," Zaeed added. Jacob nodded in agreement.

"It's an odd place for the reactor core to be, though," Tali said quietly, shaking her head.

"The current hypothesized location of the drive core reduces output efficiency by over sixteen percent," Legion calculated aloud. "Collectors do not seem to value aesthetic variables of any kind; we are also returning null analytical results at its placement within the Collector base."

"Maybe so," Miranda spoke up, "but regardless of where it is, that's the largest EM signature the Collector base has. This is a single station that's supposedly supporting every living Collector in the galaxy, the reactor requirements would have to be massive. If we can overload that reactor, it would easily destroy the entire base." Around her, heads nodded in agreement, John's included.

"Alright," he said, looking over the map with a thorough eye. "Two shields means two power stations, do we have reads on those?"

 _"I am able to trace electromagnetic wavelengths along the infrastructure of the Collector Base,"_ EDI said from above them. " _While rudimentary in nature, this scan has produced two possible outcomes for generator rooms."_ Two glowing red orbs began blinking softly on the scale model of the base, about halfway between where the Normandy sat hidden on the outer hull, and the central chamber towards the bottom of the station.

"Ok," John began, "whether it's one generator or two, I'm hedging our bets here. We'll break into two teams, hit both locations hard. On the likely chance that there are two generators, we won't give the Collectors time enough to defend the other. Once we hit both stations we can regroup in the central chamber, here." He pointed to the room just outside the massive energy signature, and around the table his decision was met with approving nods.

"Fast and painful," Jack added with a grin from her leaning position on the Conference Room door, "hell yes."

"Garrus," John said, standing up fully from the hunched position he'd been in over the table for the last few minutes, "You and I will take the strike teams in. You'll follow this path here," he traced a finger along an access tunnel leading into the Collector base, through a few chambers, and to one of the red dots. "Meanwhile, I'll take a team along this route," he added, running his finger again along a different path, leading through many small chambers alongside the main ventilation shaft.

"It's a good plan," Miranda said, "once we're inside the base. But both options for entry contain locked doors at each end of the route. The only way to get in is for someone to open them from the other side." John nodded as he saw the barriers she indicated.

" _The large outer airlocks are on a separate security network than those inside the Collector base,"_ EDI called out to the silence in the room. " _The time needed to invade and override their lockdown remotely is significant. I am able to unlock the outer-most doors with the advantage of surprise, however once I am detected in the system, I will have to evacuate, or risk giving away the Normandy's location."_

"So EDI can get us halfway there," Kasumi thought aloud, "but we still need someone on the other side of the inner set of doors, or we're in deep trouble."

"Station not equipped for full-scale assault," Mordin spoke up. "Collectors never intended enemies to reach their base. Access tunnels, station layout, not designed for defensibility. Example," he paused, tapping his omni-tool to rotate the digital representation in front of John, highlighting a small square port on the outer edge. "Here. Ventilation tunnel. EDI scans reveal no security counter-measures in place, possible to pass into station, open both inner barricades once through ventilation system and into main laboratories."

"With the massive energy signatures their core is giving off," Thane quietly rasped, "that ventilation shaft will be scalding hot. Using it to enter the station is practically a suicide mission in and of itself."

"Still," Miranda said slowly, "it's our best chance of getting into the base. Whoever goes won't have much time between ventilation seals, though. You need to send a tech expert." The room around him was silent, and for a few seconds you could hear a pin drop. The momentary hesitation made his heart sink all the more when she spoke.

"Well, good thing you have one," she said, in a voice that held more strength than he could have mustered himself at the moment. His eyes rose to meet hers, and she looked straight at him. To others, she would seem resolute, brave, strong. But he had seen her eyes behind the visor she now wore again, he could read the pain and fear in her decision as clearly as if she'd written it on the table for all to see. He opened his mouth to tell her he believed in her, that he knew she wouldn't let him down, but a mechanical voice cut him off.

"Shepard-Commander, this platform's environmental housing was designed to withstand temperatures of up to two-thousand five-hundred degrees Fahrenheit, and our decryption measures calculate at light-speed. We offer our assistance in traversing the ventilation tunnels and disabling Collector security measures, to avoid the risk of physical harm to Creator-Tali'Zorah."

"Truly a day I did not think I would live to see," Samara whispered, and when John turned to look at her, he saw her small smile and a distant look in her eyes as she watched the quarian and the geth beside her.

"Right?" Jack added. "Suicide mission, my ass. Hell, looks like all we needed was to make friends with the geth. No sweat." A round of quiet laughter circled the room, and Legion's optical sensor took them all in one by one, flaring and receding at everyone's laughter. After a moment, it looked back to John.

"It's your call, Tali," he said, knowing that to make the decision for her would be stepping too far. He wanted to protect her more than anyone in the universe, but the fact was she was an amazing fighter, a genius with all things tech, and cunning as the day was long. He trusted her judgment more than he trusted his own instincts. Well, on some things, at least.

She turned to look at Legion for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright, Legion, you're up."

"Acknowledged," it replied. "We stand ready to assist."

Garrus nodded, gesturing to the outline of the base again. "So the rest of us fight our way in, keeping the Collectors distracted while Legion opens the doors at the end. These hallways angle away from each other after the inner set of doors, Shepard. My team will have a straight shot to the center chamber after we take out our shield terminal. Yours...not so much."

"I know," John said, regarding the base layout again. The path after his team's shield control room was a long, winding one, less like a series of rooms and more like a long, twisting hallway. In ran alongside the large, central chamber, and at long last rejoined the short path Garrus' team would take to reach the central chamber, just outside the core room. "I'm counting on you to get there first, and hold it tight while we make our way over." The turian nodded, holding his gaze as only old allies could. When he spoke, his voice was a steel honed by experience, forged in fire, and tempered in the waters of allegiance and camaraderie.

"We'll be there, Shepard."

"So will we," he replied. He stepped back from the terminal, allowing the image to fade out, and looked around the room. The faces he met were resolute, determined, ready to begin this mission from which they, in all estimation, would not return. He was damned glad to have them, every single one. Still, it wouldn't do to send them in with high expectations. They needed to know the risks, feel the danger. "I don't know what we're going to find in there," he began, his words quiet but calculated, "but I'm not going to lie to you, it won't be easy. We've lost good people already, and we may lose more." He stepped back, pacing slowly back and forth at the head of the table as he continued. "We don't know how many people the Collectors have taken, not just humans, but people of every species. Thousands, hundreds of thousands...in the end, it's not important. What matters is this: not one more." He swung his gaze slowly around the room to meet soft nods and hushed silence. "That's what we can do, here, today. The Normandy is sitting right above our enemy's stronghold; it ends here with us. Every step of the way, the Collectors have been ahead of us; pushing us, slowing us down. They want to know what we're made of?" He slammed his fist into the top of the table, meeting first Grunt's eyes, inflamed with the intensity of approaching battle, then each other pair in turn. "I say we show them, on our terms, not theirs. This is their home? Well these are _our_ people, and we're taking them back."

Grunt slammed one fist into the palm of the other hand with a roar, and around the room smaller cheers rang out. They left the Conference Room as a team, and in the airlock, while they fastened their life support systems around their heads in various ways, each one of them looked around and saw the other for what they were; not team members, not aliens to each other, but brothers and sisters in arms, about to begin a war they would never forget.

* * *

"On the left, on the left!" John called out, swinging his assault rifle around to add force to the words. EDI had gotten them through the doors, where they'd been able to breathe the air, but had been immediately set upon, like steaks thrown to a pack of wolves. Beside him, Tali unleashed a steady stream of shots from her heavy pistol, and Samara raised a biotic shield to stop the Collectors own attacks, absorbing dozens before collapsing the shield into one unsteady ball of fluctuating mass effect fields, and hurling it back to collapse upon the very Collectors who had empowered it. The blast sent them flying in every direction, but still more came, flooding in from the hallway before them, taking cover behind any rock outcropping or metal beam available to them.

"Heavy reinforcement from right side!" Mordin called, hurling blasts of pyrokinetic energy into every hiding place the Collectors could think of. Beside him, Thane stood silently, firing perfectly-placed sniper rounds into drone after drone as they rose up to overrun their position. A few stood up to take the pair down as they rained down death, but Zaeed had them covered expertly, picking off targets left and right whenever they had a bead on the salarian or drell. John looked again, sparing only a second, to see the man with a lit cigar clamped between his teeth. He shook his head, allowing himself a small laugh while firing on the Collectors.

"Where the _hell_ did you get that thing?" He yelled to the mercenary, helping him suppress Mordin's right side. The grizzled mercenary laughed, a rough scraping sound that could scare the paint off of walls if he'd wanted it to.

"Illium," he shouted back, "met up with an old friend. He owed me one from a bet a long time ago, figured I'd collect." He grunted as he swung his gigantic rifle quickly to the side, putting down four husks that had tried to rush them in a single burst of fire. "Can't say I've got one for you, though, if you're asking for personal reasons."

"I'll pass," John called back, firing into a few Collectors expelled from their hiding place by Mordin's fire, "you enjoy though."

"Oh don't you worry about that, Shepard. I'm enjoying every goddamn minute." He flashed a wicked grin, the cigar only adding to his sinister visage, before returning fire on the Collectors.

" _Shepard-Commander,"_ Legion's voice called out in his earpiece, " _We have passed_ _into the chamber you are currently occupying. We will be able to open the far doors once we are within range, but we cannot guarantee how long they will remain open. You must advance up this corridor before we attempt to interface with the mechanism."_

"Got it!" he called back, and glanced up above them, seeing the geth platform's silhouette passing silently through the translucent ventilation shaft. "You heard Legion, let's push!" He leaped over the barricade behind which they'd been crouched, getting a surge of adrenaline at seeing his allies do the same. Samara shoved a barrier in front of them as she ran, and John took down two Collectors with gunfire as he approached. They closed on each other, John whipping the stock of his rifle around to catch one Collector in the head while Tali swept its legs, sending it in a crumpled heap to the floor. He spun on his heel, reaching out for her shoulder and shoving her down as he raised his rifle, firing into the three drones approaching from her left. From her crouched position, she grabbed his upper arm, using it for leverage to swing around behind him and come up with her knife in hand, ramming it into one of the eyes of the drone that came up on their right. It stumbled backwards, and Zaeed caught it in the head with a bullet as it fell. Tali rushed over to help Thane and Mordin push forward on the right side, and John rose, just barely catching the punch thrown by a Collector drone that had approached from his left. He whipped his head around to behold it's cracked, glowing yellow skin and eyes that seemed to steam out yellow energy as they beheld him.

John ducked back and away, raising his rifle to fire point-blank, but Harbinger willed the drone's hand to move faster than it otherwise could, slapping the weapon with a force so hard that not even John's enhanced muscles could hang onto it. It went scattering to the floor, and his allies turned at the sound, eyes all widening with recognition. Harbinger hurled a black ball of energy at their feet, slamming them all back against the wall, then snatched a hand out to grasp John around the throat in a vice-grip. The pain that shot through him was instantaneous, but short-lived, as Harbinger hurled him forward along the path, separating him from the rest. John tumbled to the ground, coughing as he scrambled to his feet, raising his fists in defense. From the corner of his eye, he could see the other four, fighting their way through the seemingly endless Collector drones to get to him. They wouldn't make it in time; he was on his own. Harbinger stepped across the room to meet him, it's voice a low growl.

" _Your ancestors believed in salvation from beings greater than themselves, yet you defy us at every turn, recruit others to stop what you know is inevitable, and give them false hope against the cycle that will claim their lives._ " Though low in pitch, Harbinger's voice was not angry, not furious...simply factual. In some ways, that was the most haunting part about the Reapers. There were no emotions, only facts.

"What you're offering isn't salvation, it's a harvest," he said, swinging a punch from the right that Harbinger dodged, stepping into his own flurry of attacks that slammed into John's chest and stomach, sending him stumbling backwards, falling into a sitting position on a rock formation overlooking a steep drop into the bowels of the station. He peeled his eyes away from the drop, coughing small amounts of blood onto the floor as he stood back up, circling with Harbinger as it continued.

" _You only attribute that description to it because you do not understand. You think that because you have touched one of our minds, because you have seen scattered images of a cruel and aloof civilization millennia-dead, that you understand what we are. You are wrong, Shepard. Influential upon the minds of your species and its allies, but wrong all the same._ "

"Yea, we do a good enough job at destroying each other, thanks. I think we'll pass on your 'salvation'." No sooner had the words left his mouth than Harbinger hurled another ball of energy at his feet. It exploded in a corona of light, searing his skin even through his armor, and he covered his blinded eyes as Harbinger began it's assault. It was a series of strikes, all perfectly timed, perfectly calculated, to catch him in every vulnerable area. In a matter of seconds, John knelt before the rock he had been sitting on, his hands up in a vain attempt to block some of the attacks. It was no use. Every time he blocked one attack, two more would connect harshly, pain surging through his body with every attack. His vision was limited to what he could see between the furious onslaught, and it quickly became tinged with red as blood began to run from his wounds. In a desperate maneuver, he surged to the left, then shifted quickly back to the right, throwing off the controlled drone for a fraction of a second. John spun behind it, rising quickly and grasping the tendons that held its wings to its body and ripping them downward with a roar. Skin and sinew snapped away as the cybernetics in his arms added weight to the action, and as Harbinger spun around to retaliate, John lunged forward with a massive kick, slamming the drone backwards, where it tumbled over the rock outcropping, and into the abyss below.

"John!" he heard her yell, though it sounded like cotton were packed in his ears. He turned slowly to see the four of them rushing down the small incline behind him to where he now stood dazed. His body wanted to stop, to fall to its knees and wait, but his brain knew there was no time. They had to keep pushing forward, whatever the cost. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, wincing as it passed over multiple cuts, and spat the blood out over the edge of the platform. He set his rifle down beside him, pulling off his gauntlets and wiping the blood off of his face as best he could as his team approached. Tali reached him first, gently embracing him. "We got here as fast as we could. _Keelah,_ your face..."

He smiled weakly. "I'll be f-" his eyes shot wide as he saw what they didn't. A single Collector on the ground behind them began to wrack its body as energy started surging through it. In one fluid motion, he pushed Tali to the side, grabbing the pistol out of the holster at the small of her back, and fired three rounds into its skull. It twitched for a moment, then fell limp, the energy dissolving away from it. He sighed with relief and handed the weapon back to her, then motioned for them to keep moving forward. Pain shot through his left leg at every step, and the smart money said it was broken, but he could trust the steel inside to keep him going, the pain was all in his mind. He gritted his teeth as they approached the heavy door at the far end of the hallway, and tapped his earpiece. "Garrus, give me good news."

" _We're meeting heavy resistance, but we're moving forward,"_ his friend called back. " _No sign of Harbinger though, I'm guessing you drew that wildcard,"_

"Yea, lucky me," he responded. "Are you at the door?"

" _Closing on it now. I can see Legion above us, it's got eyes on us. Be ready, it needs to go as soon as we're there."_

 _"Acknowledged,"_ it replied, " _we are in position and ready to assist."_

John stared at the giant door before them, wondering what they'd find behind it. After a moment, he turned back to his team. "Ready up, who knows how many there will be on the other side of this door." Around him, heads nodded, checking weapons and armor while he turned back to the door, checking his wounds as secretly as possible. Tali walked up beside him, making a show of examining her pistol as she spoke quietly.

"The Collectors I can understand, I mean after all we _are_ invading their home base. But are _you_ trying to kill me out here? Heart attack isn't exactly a dignified death, _saera._ "

He laughed quietly. "Well, I am who I am; getting the shit kicked out of me every once in awhile comes with the territory I suppose." She shook her head, then turned to speak again when Garrus' voice cut through on the radio.

" _We're here, get the doors, Legion!"_

" _Hacking ventilation control systems,"_ it called back, and ten seconds later, the doors snapped open.

"Ten seconds," Tali though aloud. "For a geth..." She turned her head to him, her eyes wide with the potential of how long it could have taken without the geth. "Yea, sending Legion was a good call."

"You made it," he shot back, rushing forward into the room with his pistol raised. A second later, it was back in his holster. The room they stood in was devoid of life, and light for that matter. It was gloomy, the only illumination coming from the pathway they'd just come from, and a glowing blue console before them. Tali rushed to it immediately and began hacking through, while John hailed Garrus. "Give me a sitrep."

" _We're sitting pretty, Shepard. No casualties, high body count, and Legion just dropped out of the sky to hack this terminal for us."_

"Good, keep him with you, you'll need the help to hold at the main chamber."

" _Him?"_ Garrus called back.

"Yea...it...the geth...you know what I mean." He paused for a moment. "Be careful out there, Garrus. Keep them safe, you've got this."

" _Thanks, Shepard, but based on our last conversation I'm willing to bet you're more beat up than I am_."

"Yea, yea," he trailed off, closing the comm link. He moved forward as the others fanned around the room, weapons ready, waiting for an ambush. He watched Tali work, her six fingers flying over the interface at incredible speeds, then turned away to take in the surroundings. The rock had been smoothed here, integrating with the metal framework of the base itself so well it was hard to tell unless looking directly at it where rock ended and metal began. He shook his head, drawing his eyes away from the ceiling and towards the large door at the end of the room. He knew from the scans that it would lead out onto that reaching walkway they would need to rendezvous with the other team, but he had no idea what they would actually see once those doors opened.

" _Shepard,"_ EDI's voice called out, " _I am tracking heat signatures throughout the base; it appears the majority of Collector forces are moving away from your position, to fortify routes from the central chamber to the bridge. It is likely they are mistaking your intentions for assaulting the station._ "

"They think we want to take it for ourselves," he mumbled. "But why, what do they have that we'd want, besides the crew..."

"I am not sure that is a question we would like to have answered," Thane said, passing by on his right, and John nodded unconsciously.

"Either way, we can use it to our advantage. Once these shields go down, they'll know we're not here to hijack the base, and they'll come running back. We won't have long to make it to the others, but if we can get there before the drones come back, we'll be better able to defend.

" _There is an outstanding problem,"_ the AI replied. " _Heat signatures in_ _dicate minimal Collector drones, but a large number of husks. Also, the entire path from your current location to the rendezvous point is protected by seeker swarms."_

"Oh good" Zaeed said, "just when it was getting dull."

"Countermeasure only effective in open spaces, areas where seeker swarms unaccustomed," Mordin said rapidly. "Here in Collector base..." he took a deep breath, "will see right through it."

"We need a new solution then, or we're dead in the water here," John said, looking around the room.

"I can project a barrier to keep you from harm," Samara said quietly, "but it will take my full concentration, and it will drain almost everything I have, if the length of the corridor is as we expect."

John walked across, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We've got your back, Samara."

She smiled knowingly, the smile one could only master after nearly a millennia of life. "I know, Shepard. And I have yours."

"I've got it!" Tali yelled, as the console shifted from blue to green.

" _Shepard, we've got our console down as well,"_ Garrus called. " _Moving forward to the rendezvous point, we'll meet you the- contacts!_ " Bursts of gunfire and the sound of a roaring krogan heralded the end of the transmission, and John nodded.

"Alright, we stick close to Samara, and keep her covered. It's going to be close quarters out there, so stay together, and fight smart." Around him, they nodded, loading clips into weapons and readying them at the door. He turned back to Tali, whose hand hovered over the console interface to open the massive door ahead, and nodded. She tapped the interface, and the large door split in half, sliding apart to reveal a gargantuan walkway alongside an unfathomably large inner chamber. Harsh yellow light illuminated the path before them, as if it lay in some twisted permanent twilight. The landscape was not the first thing they noticed, though; nor was the massive scale of the station's center.

The buzzing of the swarm drowned out all sound and thought.


	40. The Paths We Tread

***Author's Note***  
Alrighty, part two. Believe it or not, there's a plot point in here  
that I didn't have planned out. It was a plot thread I had started  
in motion all the way back in TDN, knowing full well that I had no  
idea how it was going to be resolved until this very moment when  
I sat down to write it. I think I made the right call, but I'll see  
what you all think first!

Two more chapters and an epilogue after this, then we're on to  
FitS. Sorry it's been a bit, a co-worker quit the job and I've been  
covering all of her work for the past two weeks. I wrote this chapter  
over the course of a week and a half, so if you spot any inconsistencies,  
please let me know and I'll fix them ASAP.

As always, thanks for the reviews, PM's, and favorites. You keep  
reading, and I'll keep writing!

* * *

**The Paths We Tread  
**

_"Shepard, how's it looking?"_

"Quiet." John answered Garrus' worried tone with one of his own. It had been quiet, far too much so for what they were in the process of doing, with how far they'd already breached the enemy's fortress. His group walked steadily along down the corridor, all of them with weapons at the ready, the only sound being the dulled buzzing of thousands of seeker swarms outside Samara's biotic dome above them. He looked towards the asari, and she strained visibly, keeping such a large and powerful barrier in place, she had said, would drain every ounce of strength from her. They had discussed the plan over their comms, and when Samara had spoken with Jack about creating a similar barrier for Garrus' team should they need it, John could have sworn he'd heard fear in the younger woman's voice for the first time.

" _Maybe they assumed the seeker swarms would do the job,"_ Garrus offered, bringing John's mind back to the present.

He shook his head. "Doesn't add up. We've fought the Collector's a few times now, they have to know we'd do something to avoid them. They'd count on it."

Through his earpiece, he heard Garrus chuckle. " _Sure, but who really counts on facing down an asari justicar?"_

"Fair point," he replied. The line went silent, and he swung his weapon around in a long slow arc, scanning the path ahead and behind for any sign of enemies, but finding none. It made his stomach lurch; they should have been putting up more of a fight. The path around them consisted of metal walkways, bathed in the sickly yellow light that had first greeted them when they'd opened the doors from the control room. It wound this way and that, around tall, almost organic-looking columns of stone and metal. Everywhere around them, stone fused with steel, organic and synthetic merged in an unsettling union, and all bathed in that horrible yellow glow. Ahead, the walkway seemed to bend away from the side walls of the gigantic chamber they traversed, and out into the open a bit. From there they would surely be able to see their destination; by EDI's mapping they'd already covered half the distance to their rendezvous point.

"Shepard..." Samara breathed heavily, and he rushed over to listen. She acknowledged his attentiveness with a grateful nod before kneeling down and speaking. "I need to relax the barrier for a moment, to rest and hopefully conserve energy."

"Alright," he said nodding, "I take it we shouldn't try to move while you're doing this?"

Her laugh was weak. "Not unless you enjoy the idea of facing that swarm alone." She closed her eyes, her words softening as she continued. "It takes this much effort just to keep out something as small as seeker swarms. If there are other dangers along this path..."

He smiled, leaning down to place a hand on her shoulder. "Take your time, Samara, we'll cover you." He turned, waving the rest of the team in towards the two of them as the translucent bubble of biotic contracted, leaving them in a space no larger than an escape pod. Around their barrier, the seeker swarms hissed and surged, as if sensing Samara's weakness. They slammed their small bodies against the biotic wall, each time repelled, each time trying once more. They surged with such intensity, a fervor he'd not seen in previous encounters with them, and it unnerved him. It was almost as if-

"Husks!" Tali yelled, and his mind snapped back to the matter at hand. He spun toward the sound of her voice as all around him his team opened fire. He scoffed as he began firing upon them, noticing the creatures crawling up from beneath the walkway. Of course they'd waited until John and his team were out in the middle of the platform. There was no running, it was fight or die. It seemed, though, that for every husk he killed, two more came rushing for them. The horde of synthetically desecrated humans closed slowly, surely, and just as John dropped three to the ground, he felt the sudden tension of a husk's arm around his throat.

He swung his head backwards, slamming it into the creature's face and earning a sickening howl of agony, then spun, grabbing its arm and flipping it over his shoulder before smashing a boot down on its head. Another grabbed his arm, and a close-range blast from Tali's shotgun shredded it, its disembodied arm still holding onto his shoulder. He shook it off, then raised a rifle to peel one off of Tali in return. She nodded her thanks, then suddenly her eyes shot open wide. Time seemed to slow as her arm reached out in vain to stop what she knew she couldn't, and John turned to face the danger just as it collided with him. The biotic shockwave was mostly ablated by Samara's small, yet still effective, biotic shield, but John had been standing just inside, and enough of the wave got through to shove him forward, past a terrified Tali...and out of the bubble.

The swarm descended on him at one, and he threw up his arms, knowing it would not stop their paralytic toxin. After a few seconds, however, he painfully realized his earlier curiosity had been well-founded. They swarmed across his body with razor-sharp appendages, scoring his armor with ear-piercing scraping noises, and slicing his exposed flesh. Blood began to pour from every area of his body, and he howled in pain as he rolled over, crawling back in the direction he thought the bubble had been. The swarm surrounded him, blinded him, and then in an instant, it was gone. A blue light passed over him, shoving the creatures away, and when he raised his blood-soaked face, he could see Samara standing once more, her raised arms shaking visibly with the effort of pushing the shield back out to its limits. Her eyes were locked on him.

"Shepard!...I cannot..." pain seemed to wrack her, and she slammed her eyes shut against it, breathing heavily. "We need to go...now!" He surged to his feet, the adrenaline allowing him to ignore the pain, and yelled to his team.

"Everyone! Make for the door! Go, go, go!" They rushed forward, half running, half stumbling as Samara shuffled forward, pulling on every ounce of energy she had left to keep them going. "Garrus!" he yelled into his earpiece. "I need that door open pretty soon!"

 _"We're on it, Shepard,"_ the turian replied, _"Just keep coming, we're ready to catch you."_

John nodded, firing on husks as they continued to climb up and assault them. Samara's pace slowed even more as they approached the final quarter of their journey, and John met her eyes with his own. His blood ran cold, and he saw something he'd never seen in the Justicar's eyes: fear. "Samara," he called out warily, and she shook her head weakly in response. Around them, her shield began to flicker as the last of her power began to drain away. One, then two, then three of the seekers began to sneak in, slicing at John and his team even as they continued to fire on the approaching husks. "Samara!" he yelled out, still moving towards the door, "Keep moving!"

Behind them, the doors to the rendezvous point opened, and a hail of gunfire and biotics surged outward to cut down the husks further. "Run for it; that's an order!" he yelled, and the rest of the team turned to sprint for the doors as Garrus' team covered them. They surged ahead, and John rushed to Samara, putting an arm around her and pushing forward to make the doors as seekers slashed at the both of them.

"The light..." she mumbled, and he looked down at her as they shuffled forward through the horrible buzzing sound of their impending deaths. "The light is leaving, Shepard. They will take you too if you stay with me."

"I'm not leaving you behind!" he yelled through gritted teeth. Another seeker slashed across his forehead, and the blood stung his eyes as it seeped down, blurring his vision.

"You are a good man, Shepard," she said. "So wonderful, that even in a species as young as yours, such compassion can be found. It makes me know that the path I chose was not that of a life wasted or given up, but one of truly protecting those who deserved it." The shield around them snapped back into place for a brief moment, and John stopped, surprised, meeting her eyes in the momentary lull. "May the goddess watch over you, Shepard," she whispered, "now...and always..."

Her hands surged with blue light, the shield around them completely collapsing, and an unfathomably large force slammed into John's back, hurling him forward and away from her. As he flew through the air, he could see the rest of his team passing through the doorway into safety, with Jack holding up her own barrier to protect the rendezvous point from the seeker swarms that chased them. His body slammed down onto the walkway just outside, and the wind was knocked out of him as he skidded on his armor, sliding between the open doors, and through Jack's barrier. He scrambled to his feet, turning in time to see the seekers descend on the asari. She did not fight them, and John knew it wasn't for lack of desire. She had no more strength; she had given the very last of it to save his life. There were no screams, no cries for help, just the swarming black mass bearing down inevitably.

"NO!" Jack screamed, her barrier winking out of existence. She bolted forward from the doors, her hands glowing with the familiar blue of biotic energy. Then, for a brief moment, she stopped. The normally rage filled Jack stood, the picture of peacefulness and quiet, amidst the swarm of death all around her. Her hands stopped glowing blue, and instead began to glow a dark, crimson red. Energy crackled around her clenched fists, and in an instant she raised them, slamming down into the walkway. A wave of pure biotic power surged forward, slamming into the husks and seeker swarms alike. The raw power of the biotic amplification sundered each creature on an atomic level, completely disintegrating their material composition. Ashes fell in their wake, or what could be called ashes, and they began to rain down softly as, for the first time in seemingly forever, the horrible buzzing could no longer be heard. Jack stumbled forward, limping toward Samara's figure lying prone on the ground.

"Christ..." Miranda breathed, her hands raised to maintain the shield Jack had abandoned in her pain. "I've never...I don't even know what that was, Shepard."

Before them, halfway up the long slope that had brought them to these doors, Jack fell to her knees beside Samara, cradling the asari's broken body in her arms. She locked eyes with Samara, then bent down to let her whisper into her ear. Slowly, but quickly increasing in fervor, Jack began to shake her head, calling out Samara's name louder and louder as the asari slipped away into death. By the end, she was screaming it. Sobs wracked her, and John looked away to find Tali next to him, searching for his gaze.

"She died for me," he whispered to her."

"She isn't the first," Tali whispered back, "and she won't be the last, _saera_." She took his hand in both of hers. "We all know the price we might be asked to pay. And we still came. She didn't just die for you, or for us," her eyes looked back out through the doors, and his own followed them. Jack had looped her arms under Samara's, and was dragging her body back through the doors. As soon as she'd gotten through, Legion keyed in commands on the terminal to close them again. Jack set Samara's body gently against the base of the console, then slowly backed away. Jack's eyes had a far-away look in them, puffy from the tears they'd shed. Her nose bled profusely, though she hadn't taken a single scrape or bruise, and she clutched the side of her head gingerly as she slowly backed away from Samara's body. They all surrounded her now, those closest to her in the end, silently mourning the sacrifice she'd made for them.

"She died for the entire galaxy," Tali finished.

* * *

"Hit it again," John said, and Grunt roared as he slammed a heavy fist down onto the translucent cover of the Collector pod. Cracks spider-webbed out from the impact point, and the krogan looked up at him with a wicked grin. John nodded once, and Grunt went back to it, slamming the pod over and over, while John took in the room. It was a dock of some kind, the main entrance being the doors they'd come through. Legion had locked down the side corridor that Garrus' team had come down the moment they'd set foot in this room. For the moment, he'd consider that liability handled. He turned, looking out over the gaping chasm behind them. There was a platform docked there, seemingly programmable to cross the chasm, but not large enough for his entire team.

The team...He looked back to them, sitting despondently checking their weapons, armor, and shields. They had known the risk, but Samara's death had made it real for them. Not even the joy of having found Ken and Gabby here, waiting in pods to be moved across the chasm, had lasted long in the face of that grief. He had set Grunt to work, but the Krogan seemed to be the only one finding any happiness in the moment. A sharp _hiss_ escaped behind him, and he turned away from the chasm to look once more upon the pod. Grunt had punctured its seal, and was lifting the cover off, tossing it aside as easily as John would have tossed a pillow. Coughing and sputtering emerged from within, and Grunt reached a hand in, pulling Ken out of the pod.

"Oh you're ready to have a go, are ya?" he yelled, stumbling forward while swinging his arms uselessly against Grunt's battle armor. The Krogan looked down at the punches, then over to John, who shook his head as he approached. To his credit, Ken kept swinging until John pulled him away.

"Ken. Ken!" He shook the man's shoulders, and Donnelly's eyes opened in surprise.

"Aye, sorry Commander...but...fuck me, you came to get us?" The disbelief was palpable on his words, and then his eyes widened. "Wait, you did get _us_ , right? Where's Gabby?!" John tightened his grip.

"Easy, Ken, she's just over there." He nodded towards the other pod, which Grunt was approaching with fist raised high. The man visibly relaxed. "I need to know, Ken. Did you see Lia? Do you remember anything?"

"We...I..." he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, then after a long moment shook his head. "I...I didn't see her, Shepard. I'm sorry. They must have separated us somewhere further up the line. There where a couple of times I could see Gabby, but I haven't seen Lia since the Normandy attack." His eyes took in the rest of them, then came to rest on Samara. "Oh fuck me...no..."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Stay with me, Donnelly," he grabbed the man's gaze and held it. "Stay with me right here. I need you focused if we're going to get out of this, alright? The Normandy's core brushed up against meltdown during our welcome party, understand?" He nodded, and John continued. "Good. EDI's keeping it from crossing that threshold for now, but I need you and Gabby to get back to the Normandy and get her ready to jump a relay. Use EDI, use the rest of the Cerberus crew aboard, use anything you have to, but you make sure we can get out of here when we need to. Can you do that for me, Donnelly?"

Ken's gaze flitted past John's ear, to where Grunt was pulling a similarly-dazed Gabby out of a pod. His eyes hardened then, and he met John's face again. "You're goddamned right we can, Commander."

John nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder and turning to face the others. "Mordin, take Ken and Gabby back to the Normandy through the service tunnel, get them anything they need to fix the ship. Garrus should have wiped out anything in the tunnels on his way here."

 _"Correct, I am currently detecting no life forms in those tunnels, Shepard,"_ EDIs voice confirmed.

Mordin looked at Shepard, then down to Samara, taking a deep breath. He knew he couldn't bring back the dead, but John admired the salarian all the more for wanting to. Mordin nodded then, waving to the two engineers as Legion unlocked the service corridor. It slid open, the three of them disappearing within before Legion closed it again, locking it down just to be safe. John crossed the room, all eyes on him, and sat down on the edge of Ken's Collector pod. A long moment passed, John sweeping over everyone with his gaze before speaking.

"The Collectors...the Reapers...they're not just a threat to us. They've reached out and taken one of our own today already; they may do it again. No matter how hard we fight, how well we protect each other as a team, none of us are safe as long as we're on this station. But this fight is worth more than our lives. Our enemies are a threat to everyone, everywhere. Those are the lives we're fighting for; that's the scale of this mission."

Around him they nodded. Kasumi took the slightest step closer to Garrus, and Miranda's eyes found Jacob's across the crowd. They trusted him, they knew he could lead them to victory here, but they were also afraid; and they had every right to be. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the words were cut off by the shrill shriek of a Collector construct's beam slamming against the main entrance from the walkway outside. He had known they would come, and so had his enemy known what he was after, waiting until his team was here, backs to the wall in the heart of their enemy's base. Harbinger would throw everything he had at them now. His team needed to be ready.

John stood calmly, walking through the rest of them until he stood just before the massive arching doors. He stared into the doors, daring the Collectors to come and challenge his team, then turned back to them and yelling to be heard over the beam. "It's been a long journey, and nobody's coming out without scars. But at every moment leading up to this, we've fought together; as a team. This is it! Everything we've fought and bled for, every mission, every new face recruited; it's all come down to this moment. They're going to come through that door with the power of a Reaper, and we win...or lose...everything in the next few minutes. When it's all finished and the smoke clears...make sure you're proud of what you did here today. I know I will be."

They cheered, readying their weapons, and he called out as he walked back through their ranks. "Garrus, you're in command here." His friend nodded to him.

"We'll buy you the time, Shepard. Blow that core the hell up."

John nodded in reply, pointing to Tali and Miranda. "You two, with me. We need to set the charges on the core as soon as possible." Tali fell into step beside him, and Miranda cross to Jacob. For a long moment they simply stood in front of each other, then Miranda leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. His hand touched her waist gingerly in response.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "For everything, Jacob."

"It was worth it all, Miranda," he replied quietly, a small smile on his lips. "I'd go through it all again in a heartbeat, and you know it." She laughed softly, then placed a hand to his chest, their gazes drinking each other in for a long moment before she nodded and stepped away to meet John and Tali at the platform. They stepped aboard as the rest of the team took up defensive positions. Tali interfaced with the controls, and the platform lifted into the air, making its way out into the abyss towards the sickly yellow core of the station. They had floated out steadily for about a minute when a loud explosion resonated out into the chasm from behind them. The three of them spun to look, and saw the door blasted ajar, Collectors trying to make their way in and overwhelm the team. They held their ground, though, bullets and biotics ripping their enemies apart as they tried to breach their defensive position.

"I don't see Harbinger down there," Miranda said quietly, her eyes locked on Jacob. John looked to her for a moment before looking back down at the battlefield.

"Wasn't likely," he said. "He'll be waiting for us."

"Good," she said coldly, turning away from the battle below and looking out over the abyss. "And it looks like he's not the only one."

John turned as well, just in time to see three platforms filled to the brim with Collectors, and escorted by Collector constructs, hovering menacingly towards them. There was no way they could defeat all of them, and John's heart sank as the platforms picked up speed. Harbinger had outplayed him, and it was about to cost him the lives of his team, and the woman he loved. He shook his head as he watched them come, readying his rifle for the fruitless fight to come.

At the last moment, one of the platforms tipped over suddenly, spilling the Collectors aboard it into the abyss below. It twitched from side to side, then slammed violently to the right, crashing into a construct, whose laser beam fired off reflexively as it was thrown into the wall of the chasm and tumbled away.

"What the hell..." he whispered.

" _Shepard,"_ EDIs voice filtered into his earpiece, " _I have commandeered control of the platform control system, but I cannot maintain it for long. Cross the chasm, I will protect you."_

Tali tapped the controls, and the platform shot forward. All around them, dozens of Collector platform rose up to attack them, and EDI controlled them all, creating a chaotic display of carnage as platforms screamed across the chasm towards each other, colliding with other platforms, constructs, and the chasm wall. So many exploded into flame that Tali had a tough time directing their platform through the tunnel of blazing infernos, and as they neared the end of the abyss, she banked the platform hard to the left to avoid an incoming enemy craft. Miranda tumbled to the side, and John shot a hand out, catching her arm and keeping her steady as she got back to her feet.

"Thanks," she called out. "I owe you one."

He smiled back at her. "I'm sure I'll collect." She returned his smile, and the platform came into dock before a tall lift. The three of them stepped off of the platform, and John tapped his earpiece. "Garrus, what's your situation?"

" _This is Jacob, Shepard. Garrus took a hit, but he's fine."_ Gunshots and explosions punctuated his words, and a short silence followed by a louder-than-normal burst of gunfire indicated Jacob firing his own weapon before speaking again. " _Kasumi rushed over, she's working on him right now. Bastard's still shooting over the barrier while she's patching him up."_

John smiled. "Any other casualties?"

" _None yet, Shepard. We're holding tight. You do what you need to do and let's go home, huh?"_

"Will do, Taylor. Shepard out." He tapped his earpiece again before stepping up to the lift. "EDI, what have you got for me." Miranda and Tali followed him into the lift, and Tali interfaced with its control console to send them shooting upwards through the base's inner heart.

" _My readouts indicate that every auxiliary power line in the base converges with the others at this point. The chamber beyond is well-shielded, but it is emitting both organic and inorganic signatures. Based on the energy emissions, it must be a massive superstructure."_ The lift tunnel slowed as she continued speaking, and John's eyes grew wide as they beheld what lay before him. " _Shepard...if my calculations are correct...the superstructure...is a Reaper."_

It was a large, silver skeleton, a haunting representation of the core of his own species. Its eyes were dark, and its construction had trailed off below the ribcage, with the tail-end of its spine dipping down and away into the black abyss below. A large ring platform surrounded the construct, encircling a path around its ribcage for Collectors to work or inspect the creation. It was a colossal structure, fed by four gigantic cylinders constantly pumping organic material into the reaper.

"Not just any Reaper...a human reaper," John breathed.

" _Keelah,_ " Tali hissed in horror.

"This..." Miranda began, walking forward onto the platform unconsciously. "This is what they've been doing to all the humans they take? Liquefying them and feeding them to this...monster?! How many?!"

_"By my calculations, the Collectors have already processed tens of thousands of humans. They would need significantly more to finish the reaper's construction..."_

"This is an atrocity..." John seethed. "What do they even get from this? What do they gain from turning human lives into this...shell?"

" _Salvation."_ The voice boomed around the chamber, and they instantly gripped their weapons, swinging them around to find Harbinger as it continued to speak. _"This is our promise, it is our gift to you: salvation through destruction. Life, from death."_

"You harvested these people to help you wipe out all life in the galaxy!" John screamed into the air. "This isn't salvation! It's genocide!"

_"The title you give the process does not matter in the end. The cycle has repeated itself for millennia; it will not be stopped by a single human."_

"We are more than you know, reaper," he called back. "Sovereign found that out the hard way, and I promise, so will you." He raised his rifle, unloading a hail of gunfire into the side of one of the gigantic cylinders, glowing with that same sickly yellow, the bodes of thousands stolen for this twisted purpose. After a long assault, it shattered, thousands of gallons of the horrible liquid spilling down into the depths below. Miranda and Tali followed suit, firing into the other cylinders, before a black ball of energy exploded at their feet, sending all three of them sprawling away from each other. Harbinger landed between Shepard and the others, already creating another energy ball in it's insect-like claws.

 _"You are nothing without your leaders. Humanity is brave, but only because you lead them, Shepard._ "

"Go!" he yelled, "Destroy that thing!" They hesitated a moment before rushing towards the constructs, weapons screaming and biotics flaring towards the yellow cylinders. John met Harbinger's eyes. "I've stopped your kind before; I'll do it again. And again. And again, until all that's left of you are your smoking husks hanging in the space between stars." He leaped to his feet, charging Harbinger, who dodged to the side, bringing a fist down towards John's crouched form. He expected the drone's reflexes, however, and reached out, grabbing Harbinger's leg and pulling it out from underneath him. The drone toppled to the ground, and John swung his leg around toward Harbinger's face with every ounce of strength his cybernetics could grant him. Harbinger rolled away, getting quickly to its feet and readying a black ball of energy to hurl towards the backs of Tali and Miranda.

"NO!" John yelled, lunging to his feet and grabbing Harbinger's outstretched arm with both hands, shoving it upward with all his might. Harbinger held the ball there at the end of its hand, its energy burning the flesh on John's face and hands as he struggled to keep it away from his team. The pain crept into his skin, seeped into his bones, and threatened to consume him. Colors began to fade, and he roared in pain, even that sound dulled to his ears by his impending death. He looked up into Harbinger's eyes. They held no emotion, no anger or hatred, just simple fact. The reapers would win here; they always won. After he killed John, Harbinger would fire the energy ball at Miranda, killing her while it closed on Tali. It would bear down with everything it had, killing the three of them while letting the rest of their team wonder what fate had befallen them, as his forces decimated them. They would all die here on this station; it was now just a matter of when.

John closed his eyes, shut out everything, and felt himself back on Akuze, trembling in the bunker next to the only man left alive. All around them, the earth groaned and cried out in agony as the thresher maw circled its prey, waiting for them to die. "Not again," he whispered to himself, the ball of energy still searing every inch of him. "Never again." He threw all of his weight into his arms, hearing the metal inside them groan as he screamed with guttural rage. Harbinger fought back, it's physical strength surprisingly overwhelming, but John just screamed louder and pushed against the drone with all his might. In an instant, it's arms snapped backwards, the bones within shattering, and the ball of energy collided with its face. A massive explosion surged out, slamming the drone backwards and off the platform, and John flying backwards towards the construct.

Tali and Miranda caught him as he tumbled to the platform's surface again. His face burned with liquid fire, and it was all he could do to not scream further in pain. "Finish it!" he yelled, and Miranda turned, hurling a massive biotic projectile into the last cylinder. It shattered, and the construct's entire weight buckled under the lack of stability, crashing down towards the platform. It's massive hands crashed into the platform's surface, and the whole structure began to tip. Tali helped him to his feet, and they ran for the safety of the lift, fighting against gravity as the entire platform began to tilt down into the abyss. Tali ran ahead of them, and as she bolted for the lift, a piece of the metal cylinder housing came crashing in from above, tripping her and sending her skidding down the platform.

"Tali!" he yelled, diving without thinking, sliding on his stomach down after her.

"John!" she screamed back, reaching desperately out towards him as she slid towards the edge. He swung out and arm to grab hers time after time, each just barely missing connecting. The edge approached, and she screamed as she sailed over it into the inky black.

John threw all of his strength forward, hurling himself off the platform after her. Time slowed as he saw her in free-fall below him, his hand inches from hers. He surged forward, grabbing her three fingers in his five as they both hurtled off the edge. His other hand he shot blindly back up towards the platform's edge, hoping to find anything to save them. His hand collided with metal, and he clamped down on it with superhuman strength, the cybernetics in his body compounding the power of the adrenaline surging through him.

"Got you!" he yelled with relief.

"Alright," she said breathlessly as they hung over the abyss together, "I think we're even on the whole 'giving each other a heart attack' thing. Deal?"

He couldn't help but laugh at the lunacy of it all. "Deal."

"Good, then maybe we ca- oh no..."

His eyes snapped downward to look past her, to the base of the cavernous chamber below. The reaper finished its fall, colliding with the ground and exploding in a massive corona of light and flame. Panic overtook him as the flames rushed up to take them, and he hurled Tali up by her arm. She clambered back onto the platform, which had begun to right itself, before hauling him up behind her. They ran for the lift, jumping between platforms and knowing that beneath them, death itself stirred in wait for them. Ahead, Miranda stood by the lift, her hands glowing blue.

They rushed towards the edge of a platform, and fire exploded from the space between the platforms, spilling up and over them, trying to sear the flesh from their bones. John grabbed Tali and turned his back to the flame, slamming his eyes shut at the pain he knew would come...but nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see a blue biotic field around them.

"Hurry! I can't hold the field for very long against that kind of energy!" Miranda yelled, and they ran for her, jumping across platforms as they heaved in the pyroclasm beneath. All around them, jets of fire and arcs of electricity burst forth from the quickly-growing space between the platforms, but Miranda's mass effect field held strong, and at long last they leaped from the last platform to the alcove that housed the elevator. They both collapsed, exhausted, to the hard deck beneath them, breathing heavily as Miranda's field winked out of existence. She crossed to the edge of the platform, leaning over to look down into the abyss below. "Rest in peace," she whispered quietly, before craning her neck around to scope out the rest of the cavernous room.

John knelt down on all fours, and for a moment he simply allowed time to stop. His face was marred with cuts, bruises, and energy burn. His armor was scored in dozens of places, and every single muscle in his arms ached from the strain of his face-off with Harbinger. His eyes looked over to Tali, who was already looking for him. She crouched in a kind of pained hunch, one hand rubbing the wrist he'd grabbed harshly to save her life. Despite where they were, despite He slowed his breathing, allowing himself a small break in the endless struggle, which was of course immediately interrupted.

"Commander, over here," Miranda called out, and he got to his feet to walk over to the alcove's ledge. He followed her gaze upwards, far above into the ceiling of the chamber, where the churning yellow core of the station hung suspended as it steadily glowed. "I can warp the structural housing around the core, putting it into meltdown."

"That might not give us any time to get out," Tali commented quietly, and a long silence hung between them. After a moment, it was broken by John's earpiece.

" _Shepard, what's your status?"_ Garrus' voice came through haggard and strained.

"We're in the core chamber," he replied, "working out a way to bring this station down. Give me a sit-rep, how are you holding up?" _  
_

" _We're keeping them back, but they're pushing harder than before. Jacob's been hit...it's not good, Shepard."_

"What?" Miranda called out spontaneously.

" _It's not...it's not that bad..."_ Jacob's voice broke into their conversation, pained but resolute. " _I can still fight, Shepard. You do what you need to."_

"Get everyone back to the ship, Garrus," John said. "We're about to blow the station sky high. Joker..."

" _Shepard..."_ his pilot replied, " _you can't...we can't leave her."_

"We don't know that she's still alive, Jeff," he said softly.

" _You don't know that she's dead!"_ Joker yelled back. " _She could be somewhere in that base right now suffering, and you just want to leave her!?"_

 _"_ We knew that was a possibility for all of us going into this," he said calmly, masking the urgency with which they needed to make a move. Every second he argued with Joker was another bullet screaming past one of his people's heads down there at the hold point.

" _She's not some mercenary you recruited for this mission, Shepard! She's there because of me; because I brought her here. I have to find her,_ We _have to find her!"_

"Joker, if we don't do this now, everyone holding that point is going to die! Lia saved your life when the Collectors attacked the Normandy; she wouldn't want you to throw it, and the lives of all your teammates away to try and rescue her. She had a bigger heart than that, and you know it."

" _Damn you, Shepard...Fine. I'll have the Normandy ready."_ There was a long pause before he spoke again. " _But after this...we're through. I've given up too much for you already...now I've given up everything."_

Pain stabbed into John's chest, and he looked away, down towards the deck. He knew the decisions would be hard; he hadn't known they would cost him his closest friends. He steeled his heart, pushing out the pain of Jeff's words, and spoke again. "Garrus, get everyone to the Normandy, _now_. Bring the ship around to get to us. EDI, update our heads-up displays with the nearest service tunnel from here leading to an airlock, and update the on-boards as well."

 _"Understood, Shepard,"_ she called back, and his helmet display updated.

He turned to Miranda. "Blow the core, We've already lost too much on this station." She nodded, and blue flame engulfed her hands. She raised them to fire off the projectile, when her omni-tool began to pulse with an incoming transmission. Seeing it, she lowered her hands, sharing a confused look with John.

"No one should be able to contact us this close to the core," Tali said. Miranda tapped the interface, and the Illusive Man appeared above her wrist, just as if they'd been standing in the QE relay.

" _Shepard,"_ he began, " _you've done the impossible."_

"I was part of a team," he replied. "Some of them gave their lives for this mission."

" _I know,"_ he replied. " _And regardless of their species, or of the monster you think I am, their sacrifices will not be forgotten. You did what you had to do, Shepard. They knew the risks were high, and they accepted them. But now, here you are, your hand on the throat of the Collector base."_

"Then it's time to close our fist," he said, signaling Miranda to fire away.

" _Wait,"_ the Illusive Man called out. " _Shepard, I'm looking at the schematics data EDI has been relaying. If you attack the core itself, not the housing, you could trigger a quickly-decaying radiation bleed. It would kill anything alive but leave the station structurally intact."_

"I didn't come here to buy a summer home at the center of the galaxy," John shot back. "I came here to destroy this abomination."

_"The Collectors were building a Reaper, Shepard. This is our chance to get a leg up on our enemy. That knowledge, that framework, it could save us in the end."_

"Save us?" John barked a short laugh. "They liquefied people here, fed them to that sick machine. We're destroying this place."

" _Don't be short-sighted, Shepard! You and I both know that what's coming is far worse than anything the Collectors could do. Hell, they're a drop in the ocean compared to what's racing towards our galaxy even as we speak. Our best chance, our_ only _chance, is to turn this knowledge against the Reapers. They won't see it coming. Face it, Shepard; no matter how you personally feel about the situation, the Reapers were working directly with the Collectors, and that makes this base a treasure trove of possible information we can use in the fight to come."_

 _"_ What kind of knowledge are you looking for, exactly?" John asked, stepping closer to the hologram. "How to build your own Reaper? It would hardly surprise me."

" _My goal is to save us from total annihilation, Shepard, at any cost. I've never hidden that from you."_ He paused, his hologram placing a hand to his forehead for a moment before continuing. " _Yes, what happened here was horrible, no one is denying that. But for all the lives lost here, imagine how many more we can save if we keep the base intact and use it against the Reapers. Hell Shepard, imagine the lives that will be lost if we don't."_

"We can fight the Reapers and win without this information. It's not worth the lives lost."

_"Why, because of the abominable things that were done here? Shepard, you died fighting for what you believed in. Ms. Zorah over there lived through you suffocating and burning up in the atmosphere of Alchera. But I brought you back, so you could keep fighting, because you're humanity's best chance, Shepard. Some people, even some of those who worked tirelessly to bring you back, said what we did to you was too far, too monstrous, but look what you've accomplished. I didn't discard you because I knew your value; don't be so quick to make that mistake here."_

He turned behind him to look at Tali. She met his gaze levelly, and after a long moment, she spoke. "He's...not wrong. _Keelah_ , it sounds horrible but...look at what my father was doing with the geth. I hated him for it when I first found out, but I can understand why he did it. He knew that using the enemy's weakness against them was the only way we would ever take back Rannoch."

"Do _you_ believe that?" he asked her. "Is Legion just a way for us to weaken the geth, heretics and renegades alike?" Her fingers interlaced at her stomach, and she looked away before answering.

"I...I don't know anymore, John."

"And you?" He asked, rounding on Miranda's shocked expression. "What's he going to do with this information once he's got it? Use it to "enhance" humans so they can fight the Reapers for him? Is that what we should all be doing, enhancing every human into a perfect Reaper-killing machine? Millions and millions of Mirandas running around fighting for the Illusive Man?" She shook her head slowly, no words were necessary. Sensing the failure of his push, the Illusive Man spoke up again.

 _"The ends_ always _justify the means, Shepard, when the fate of our entire species hangs in the balance."_

"Maybe for you," John replied coldly. "We won't let fear compromise who we are. Miranda?"

 _"Shepard, no! Miranda, stop th-!"_ his cries cut out as Miranda closed the comm link.

"Thanks, Shepard," she said quietly. "I was just starting to believe his intentions weren't horrid."

"Same here," added Tali, "and you know he's doing a good job of it if _he_ could convince a _quarian_ to agree with him."

"It was a tough call to make," John said, quietly staring up into the churning heart of the core. "We've made a lot of those today." His gaze came down to rest on Miranda. "Well, we started this together, let's finish it the same way." She gave a small smile, and nodded, reaching up to hurl a sphere of biotic power into the core's housing superstructure. It detonated, ripping steel and rock apart in a massive explosion. For a single second, the core twisted and hung in mid-air. Then, its magnetic binding rings began to fall away, and the sphere at the center began to ebb and flow in odd shapes and directions."

"We're good," Miranda yelled over the sound of tumbling steel, "let's go!"

The three of them bolted for the lift, taking it back down to where their platform was docked. They clambered aboard, Tali once again grabbing the controls and piloting their way along the path EDI had placed in their navigation systems. John tapped his ear as they raced through the empty chamber, veering away and to the left of where they'd originally come in to get to the new rendezvous point. "Garrus! Give me your status!"

" _We're boarding the Normandy now, Shepard...but we're down one."_

"What? Explain!"

" _It's Taylor. He said he was only slowing us down, told us we wouldn't make it if we were carrying him. Shepard...he turned his gun on us, told us if we didn't leave him he'd start shooting..."_

John's eyes met Miranda's, the latter's growing in fear and understanding. Before any of them could speak again, a weak but determined voice chimed in.

" _I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Shepard."_ The sounds of coughing and gunfire filtered into the background, then faded. " _I wouldn't have made it back in time, and they'd all be dead."_

"Jacob..." Miranda said aimlessly.

" _It's ok, Miri,"_ he replied as reassuringly as he could. " _I...I won't be there to fight the Reapers alongside you; I'm sorry for that. But I can buy you time to get away safe. This is where I fight the Reapers. This is where I make my stand."_ _  
_

"Jacob, I..." she trailed off, and then John saw the tears in her eyes. "We only just...I...I don't want you to go."

 _"I know, baby..."_ he trailed off again, more gunfire and coughing filling the void. " _I'll be watching over you, I promise. Just...do what your heart says, Miranda. You think too much; you over-analyze, and you know it. Sometimes you've just got to trust your gut, like Shepard."_ She looked over to him, and he placed a hand on her back in support. She nodded softly. " _Promise me you won't let this ruin you. Shepard's going to need you when the Reapers come...they're all going to need you, Miri..."_

"I promise...and Jacob..." she trailed off with the cold realization that this was the end. The gunfire and coughing had both intensified in the short time since they'd been talking, and Jacob's voice was barely audible over them.

" _I know. I love you too, Miri. Always have, just sometimes too afraid to show it."_ A long silence passed, and he spoke again, this time much harder. " _Shepard."_

 _"_ Jacob, we can sti-" Jacob cut him off.

" _Listen to me, cause this is the only time I'm going to talk back to a commanding officer. Sometimes, Shepard...you've got to leave a man behind, when he needs to be left behind. You understand?"_ He coughed violently. _"You can't save everyone, not when they come. But don't let them win, Shepard. At any cost."_

John paused for a long time, looking out over the chasm at the point far away, the access tunnel nearby it, where he knew his teammate sat in a pool of his own blood, so far from home, waiting for the enemy to overtake him. Their platform jetted into a tunnel under Tali's control, and his view was cut off. He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Taylor."

Jacob's reply was immediate. " _I'm not, Shepard. It's my time...'No enemy left standing' and all..."_

John nodded solemnly "Show them what N7 means, Taylor."

" _Aye aye, Commander."_ The comm channel cut out, and a few second later a series of explosions rocked the station to it's core.

"Core overload?" Miranda asked meekly.

"No," Tali called out over her shoulder. "It's too soon, with a core of that magnitude."

"Grenades," John said quietly, staring back through the steel and rock. Miranda stared alongside him, and for a few seconds that seemed like a lifetime, they mourned the passing of Jacob Taylor.

* * *

"Go, go, go!" John yelled as the three of them tore out of the airlock. The black of space slammed into the foreground of their vision, and the restrictor plates on John and Miranda's helmet had long since snapped into place. He could hear his own breathing as he rushed out into a field of broken rock, steel beams bent at every angle, and holes in the terrain where one could slip and fall into the oblivion of space if he weren't careful. This place was clearly never meant to be tread upon, but it was their exit route. They had encountered little resistance on their way here; seemingly all of the Collector forces had been diverted to the choke-point where Garrus and his team had held, and Jacob had died keeping them occupied. The whole station had begun to rock violently, and Tali had said they had two minutes at the most before the station came apart at the seams.

The two of them rushed ahead of him, and he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. Every look so far had returned negative, and as he pulled his head around from the most recent glimpse, he could see the Normandy swooping in ahead of them, it's side hatch opening to grant them their way out. Tali and Miranda rushed forward faster than before, and John cast one more look behind him before joining their sprint. His eyes grew wide, and his run quickly turned to a jog, and then a full stop as he turned around to make sure that what he saw was real.

Lia stumbled, hobbled really, clinging to every rock outcropping and steel beam as if it were life itself. She dragged along, reaching out towards him, towards the Normandy, her only chance of salvation. She had probably been screaming his name, but the silence of the space outside the airlock had most certainly drowned her out. He sprinted for her, back towards the airlock of the Collector base, and he reached her just in time to catch her as she collapsed. Her comm piece wasn't picking up his transmissions, and so for a moment he simply looked through her visor, large cracks running all through it, and into her white eyes. They were large with fear and pain, and she clung desperately to him as he lifted her back up to her feet. As soon as she stood upright again, though, she began to push him away.

His brow furrowed, confused at her actions. He reached out for her again, and she smacked his hands away, her gaze flickering back and forth from the Collector base entrance to the Normandy. After a few moments, she dropped quickly to her knees again, grabbing her head in agony. John took a few steps back as a familiar yellow energy began to surge around her, small lightning whips crackling around her limbs and torso. Her head snapped upwards again, and her eyes seethed with yellow energy. She charged at him, tackling him to the ground in a frenzy, the two of them rolling end over end across the ground. He was much larger, but her quarian physique gave her leverage advantage, and his cybernetics strained to deflect her attacks without directly injuring her.

"Lia! Come on!" he yelled, knowing she could neither hear him nor fight the power that now controlled her. She heaved her weight to the side, rolling the pair of them over until he came to rest on his back, with her bearing down on top of him. Her hand grasped his head and began pushing it backwards onto a hard metallic beam jutting from the ground around them. He felt its pressure on the back of his neck increasing, and reached both hands up behind his head to counteract her slow attack. He strained, groaning with the effort, but slowly, steadily, the pain at the base of his neck increased more and more. He could feel the makeshift spike digging in, and a glance towards the ship showed Miranda and Tali just now climbing aboard, only to turn around in horror at what was taking place. Tali made to leap back off the ship, but Garrus held her back. She flailed with rage, but he held strong, and John pushed harder than ever against his own slow demise.

His eyes met hers, her face framed by the eternity of space, her eyes that seething yellow hatred. She met his gaze levelly, and when she spoke, her voice was a chilling blend of Lia's normal cheerful voice, and the raspy anger of Harbinger's. " _Human...you've changed nothing. You have earned your species the attention of those infinitely your greater. This galaxy will know the blessing of our salvation, as all have in the cycles before. You...will no longer...interfere..._ " Her assault increased tenfold, and John yelled as his arms began to give out. His eyes flitted frantically around, looking for any way out...and came to rest on Lia's pistol hanging at her side. His heart fell, but he could feel his suit about to give out, and he would not die out here again.

He surged forward with raw strength, catching Lia off-guard enough that she slackened her assault for a moment, long enough for him to reach down with a free hand, grab her pistol, and point the barrel straight into her stomach. He pulled the trigger once, and her body recoiled backwards and off of him. John leaped to his feet, keeping the pistol trained on her while he closed. Her body writhed on the ground, those hateful eyes meeting his one more time before fading away, back to the soft white he was used to. Shock overtook her, and her hands instantly grasped her midsection as she began to convulse. John threw away the pistol, reaching down to pick her up in his arms as he began to sprint for the Normandy.

"Get the med bay ready, now!" he yelled into his comm channel. "She doesn't have much time!" As he ran, a gigantic explosion rocked the station, throwing him forward. He turned in mid-air to skid along on his back, and Lia's body began convulsing against him as he held her. He stood, his muscles screaming with the pain, and ran up the short hill leading to the Normandy, pushing every muscle in his legs to the absolute limit. As he reached the edge, he jumped, his feet slamming down on the Normandy's deck with a loud _thud_. "Joker, go!"

The Normandy banked hard and began to speed away as John handed Lia off to a team of Cerberus crew members waiting with a stretcher. Blue blood poured from Lia's stomach, and she clutched at it fervently, trying to keep in as much as she could. Her radio still would not patch into their channels, no doubt some result of Collector tampering with her suit, but in an atmospheric environment, he could hear the muffled screaming and crying behind her mask, and his heart shattered because of it. He slammed his eyes shut in pain as they took her away, then steeled himself again, knowing they weren't free yet. He rushed into the bridge, watching through the viewport as the Normandy rocketed through the debris field and towards the familiar red electrical storm at the heart of the Omega Four relay.

 _"Complete core meltdown of the Collector base in five...four...three...two...one..."_ EDI chimed out as Joker's fingers flew over the controls, weaving to avoid the debris in the straight line between themselves and the relay.

"Come on, come on," he pleaded with the ship, as a blinding light engulfed their forward viewport. John put an arm up to block the light, then immediately put it back down to steady himself as the ship lurched forward, the force of the explosion shoving them forward.

" _Rear engines are being quickly overheated by the blast wave,"_ EDI called out.

"I know!" Joker yelled back.

" _Structural hull integrity quickly dropping,"_ she called out again.

"I know, EDI!" he yelled even louder. The Normandy burst forward through the edge of the debris field, the discarded husks of centuries-old ships engulfed seconds later by a roaring inferno that incinerated them on contact. On all decks, klaxons began to blare forth, heralding the impending doom of the ship and all those aboard her, but Joker stayed focused, laying in jump coordinates. "Hitting the relay in five..."

The ship buckled, its decks rattling as the raging flames behind began to engulf them.

"Four..."

A loud explosion came from the left behind them. "Engine four is out!" one of the Cerberus crew yelled in a panic.

"Three..."

Groaning and creaking sounded loudly both above and below them, as the ship threatened to collapse in on itself with any further torment.

"Two..."

Above Johns head, wiring casings melted, their contained wires snapping and hissing as they dangled live into the cabin. A steel beam, its integrity compromised by the intense head, jutted sharply downward out of the hull above them, slamming down inches from his feet. John stared straight ahead, into the relay, into his only hope of getting home.

"One!"

Heat began to build all around them, orange flame licks snapping across the viewport before, at the last possible second, the Normandy bolted forward as it was pulled by the mass effect relay out of the fire, and snapped back through the Omega Four. Through the front viewport, steam rose visibly off of the Normandy's hull as she floated in-system. For a long moment, John stood still, not knowing the reality. Then, as the ship rotated calmly in free-flight, he could see the neon-trimmed Omega fill the viewport, and a smile crept onto his face as he opened up the ship-wide.

"This is Shepard...welcome home, people. We made it." Cheers and screams of joy broke out on every deck, and the sound was music to his ears. Amidst the noise, he looked down, meeting his pilot's eyes.

"Joker, I kn-"

"You made the right call, Shepard," Joker interrupted. "I...I wouldn't have been able to make it. I guess that's why you're in charge." He paused for a moment before plotting in a nav course for the nearest safe relay and standing up. "I've got to be with her."

John nodded. "I know. EDI can take care of the flying. You take care of Lia."

He nodded. "Thanks, Shepard. I intend to do just that." He walked away, down the hallway leading back to the CIC, and John sat down into his chair, letting out a long sigh of relief. He'd done it again. He'd stopped the Reapers and their minions in their tracks, bought the galaxy more time. Still, despite all the pain he felt for the ones he'd lost, and all the joy he felt for the ones he'd saved...he'd have given anything in the universe just to feel-

Her hands reached in from behind to squeeze his shoulders, and he reached up with one of his own to touch her. She didn't say anything; she didn't need to. He leaned back in the chair with another sigh of relief, watching with her through the viewport as EDI rotated the ship and sent them speeding along their way to their next destination.


	41. The Ties That Bind

***Author's Note***  
Aftermath of the Collector Base run here. Next chapter we'll see Lia's situation  
resolved, and the Lair of the Shadow Broker mission taken care of. After that  
we'll have the epilogue of FWAM and move into FitS. Hope you enjoy! As always,  
you keep reading and I'll keep writing! **  
**

* * *

**The Ties That Bind  
**

The track lighting above on the ceiling sped by, rectangle after rectangle of soft glowing light. It was flickering, and the ship was shaking, but she couldn't tell if that was actually the ship or just her mind slipping away. Death kept reaching for her; well, not death exactly, just that warm, peaceful bliss. It was a darkness that promised peace and comfort, an escape from the pain that coursed throughout her body from its epicenter in her stomach, from the metal they'd grafted into her flesh and bones, metal that burned even now, long after the process. It burned her from the inside out, as if she had walked around with a raging fire inside of her body. They'd let her go...they'd walked away and let her escape, knowing she'd find her way to the Normandy, counting on it.

But none of that rational thought found its way into her mind at the moment. Her brain was consumed entirely by the pain. Her eyes darted madly around at the many faces that surrounded her as the gurney they'd laid her on sped through the doors of the med bay. Chakwas was there in an instant, as was Mordin, both donning intricate contamination suits. All sound was muffled, she could barely hear them even with her suits audio compensation, but she could see the hand gestures as Chakwas hurried the others out of the room and tapped controls into her console, beginning decontamination protocols. The blackness reached out again, and she let it brush her mind with its soft fingers, before steeling her resolve and pulling away from it again.

"Lia...Lia!" Her eyes snapped open again, locking with those of doctor Chakwas through her cracked visor.

"Must remove parts of exo-suit and entire visor to operate," Mordin said calmly even as he began cutting away at the midsection of her suit to get to the bullet wound she still grasped at ineffectually. Chakwas put her hands on Lia's.

"I need you to move these, dear." Slowly, she felt her hands being pushed away from her stomach, to fall down beside her on the operating table. The world pulsed violently with a sickening yellow, and she screamed, clutching her head in her hands. The two surgeons stepped back in surprise. Her entire head throbbed with pain, and the... _things..._ they'd put inside of her seared again. She felt it, the darkness again, reaching out to claim her. She had been so sure it was death, but now...she wasn't so sure.

She heard calling out from the doctors, and when she opened her eyes again she saw them mainlining a sedative into her suit. The darkness saw it to, and willed her to pull it out, to let it overtake her. She pushed back, and felt pain arc through her body anew. Her body wracked on the table with each new surge of the horrible sensation, a slick of oil on her mind, trying desperately to seep inside and pollute her. One thrash brought her head up, and she could see through the viewport out into the mess hall as Mordin moved over to polarize the glass. Jeff stood there, his face a pale white of fear, his hand pressed against the class in worry. She met his eyes, and he stood up straighter. He too, she realized with an inward smile, willed her to fight, but against that darkness, even though it pained her so greatly. She collapsed backwards onto the table, reaching out to Chakwas, who stepped back up to take her bloody hand.

"Please..." she murmured, though she spoke as clearly as she could, "don't...don't let it take me..."

The human smiled as she increased the sedatives strength. "Don't worry, dear. Worse injuries than this have tried; and I'll never let them." She held Lia's gaze for a moment, before lifting her head and speaking again. "Doctor Solus..." her words trailed off as the world around Lia became exponentially more muffled, her vision even more hazy. Her muscles began to relax, and she could barely feel them cutting away at her suit. After what felt like days, they removed the visor in front of her face. Two bright lights above the operating table made her squint her eyes.

"Oh my god..." Chakwas said quietly.

"Primary focus patient survival," the salarian said. "will deal with that later."

"Yes, of course, you're right," she said, coming back to her professionalism.

Lia looked up through her squinted vision at the two lights above the table. They burned so brightly and, she realized as she began to slip away into unconsciousness, they burned so yellow. Like a pair of eyes, watching her, judging her, they held her transfixed in fear as a different darkness rushed up through her mind to overtake her.

* * *

"So nothing serious?" John asked aloud.

" _No, Shepard,"_ EDI called out in reply. _"A few of the Cerberus crew have sustained minor injuries from falling debris or electrical console overloads, but they are being treated locally for burns and cuts."_

"Who's treating them? Aren't Mordin and Chakwas both working on Lia?" A pang of guilt surged through him again. He'd shot her point-blank, and he knew from first-hand experience the kind of wreckage that caused on a person. He had tried to aim delicately, placing the bullet in the place least likely to kill her, but he had been about to be skewered on a jutting piece of metal, and hadn't had long to aim. He shook his head, guilt tripping himself over it wasn't going to contribute to her survival; he had to focus on what he _could_ contribute to.

" _Jack is handling the majority of the injuries. She is currently using Mordin's laboratory as a makeshift clinic."_

John's eyebrows furrowed, and he stood up from his desk, taking the lift down to the CIC and crossing into the lab. He stood by the door silent, as Jack patched up a Cerberus crewman, who had a nasty gash up his arm. She had her back to him, but he could see her hands moving deftly, applying medi-gel and a disinfectant before wrapping the wound tightly and gesturing that he was all sent. The man mumbled small thanks and left the room, nodding as he passed by Shepard. Jack turned to find the next patient, and started when she saw him. After a moment, she turned away again, cleaning up the table in silence. John crossed the room to her, taking a seat next to the table.

"Didn't know you were a first aid tech," he said casually.

She shrugged. "When you're a teenage girl on your own for so long, you learn how to patch up some pretty bad battle wounds."

John nodded, looking out the viewport. "I guess I hadn't thought about it that way." A heavy silence fell between them, and John spoke again to break it. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should have moved faster."

"Bullshit," she whispered painfully. "You did your job, Shepard. We all did."

"My job was to get our team out of there," he said, "regardless of what the mission report said. I failed in that task, and now instead of a crew celebrating their survival, I've got two empty caskets down in the cargo bay, reminding everyone that I failed."

"'I am clear of sight, so that I may see the evil in all life and root it out. I am pure of spirit, so that it may not twist and corrupt me. I am resolute of purpose, so that my death will have meaning, a strike against the darkness that otherwise devours the galaxy.'" Jack paused for a moment, looking away through the viewport herself. "It was a Justicar mantra. She said it always comforted her when she was afraid she might be close to death."

John nodded. "It's always good to have those things that center us when it seems like everything is falling apart."

"Shepard," she said, locking eyes with him for the first time since they'd begun speaking. "I've never once had clear sight, it's always been clouded by rage and revenge. I'm hardly the poster child for a pure spirit; I've done shit I can't even..." she shook her head. "And I have no purpose. All I've done with my life so far is contribute to the exact shit she was trying to _erase_ from the galaxy."

"Did you ever ask Samara about this?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "No, but I think she knew it was bothering me, at least towards the end. She told me right before we stepped off of the Normandy that everyone walks a path their entire life, and that no matter how rough the road behind had been, we always have a choice to make the road ahead brighter." She stayed quiet, and John saw a tear roll down her cheek before being wiped away. "I've got to change this." she said softly.

"Change what?" he asked.

"Shit...everything, Shepard. I've got to change everything." She shook her head softly again, then straightened her back. "But right now, I've got to patch up these assholes, so get out of here, huh?"

He took the hint, standing with a nod before crossing the room to leave.

"Shepard," she called out, and he stopped to turn around. She was facing him, and she eyed him for a long moment before crossing the space between them and wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. He hugged her back, feeling her pain in the gesture, and after a moment she stepped away. "Thanks for getting us out of there. Tell anyone that just happened and I'll kill you." Without waiting for a response, she turned back to the table. "Send the next one in."

He left the room, signaling for the next Cerberus crewman in line to go on through, and walked across Deck Two to the Armory, now empty of an inhabitant. He walked slowly between all of the workbenches, looking at the schematics and upgrades Jacob had been in the process of crafting. The man had left all the screen on, dozens of files left open to seemingly-random places. John ran a hand over them carefully; the man had clearly intended to be back in this Armory right now, picking up working as if nothing had happened. Instead, he was gone.

 _You can't save them all, Shepard._ The man's last words resonated in his head. Of all those who hadn't been with him in the fight against Saren, Jacob had believed the most, having utter conviction that Shepard could lead them all to victory. Instead, he'd led the man to an early grave, on some station light-years away from any place he could have called home. His gaze lingered on the disassembled weapons on the bench, when EDI's voice came through.

" _Shepard, the Illusive Man is hailing the Normandy's Conference Room."_

John steeled himself, crossing the Armory as he replied. "Patch it through, let's get this over with." He stepped into the connecting hallway, reaching down and heaving out of the way a crossbeam that had come crashing down from the ceiling above as they'd made their escape from the Collector base. Prying the doors to the conference room open with his hands, he stepped inside as the lights lowered and the table descended into the floor. The Illusive Man's image snapped into place before him, seated with a glass in his hand. John could see there was no cigarette in the other hand, it was too busy tightly gripping the armrest of the chair he sat in.

" _Shepard...you're making a habit of costing me much more than time and money."_

John crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And _you're_ making a habit of asking me to do things we both know are wrong."

" _Wrong compared to what? Wrong compared to what the Collectors would have done to all of us? To what the Reapers_ will _do?"_ The image of the man reached down, setting his glass on the floor before standing to step closer to John. " _Your ideals have cost us more than you can possibly imagine."_

"My ideals are going to be what saves us from the Reapers," John said calmly. "That and the strength of our resolve, not some sickening technology harvested from a genetically annihilated Reaper slave-race."

" _The technology from that base could have bolstered our defenses against the Reapers, Shepard. We could have used it to enhance our ships, our defense grids, ourselves. We could have learned from what the Reapers did to the Collectors and adapted, just as they did, to make us better suited to fight them."_

John arched an eyebrow. "Do you even hear yourself? Are you listening to what you're saying? If you take any technology you found on that station, and use it to enhance humans to wipe out the Reapers, what makes you any different than your enemy?"

" _We don't_ have _to be different from them, Shepard!"_ he yelled, " _we just have to be_ better!" _  
_

John was silent for a long moment, staring into the enraged eyes of the other man. "Yea," he said quietly at last, "I suppose when you put it that way, you're really no different from the Reapers, are you? You just claim to be fighting for a different team."

 _"_ Our _team, Shepard. We're on the same side. Cerberus strength is human strength."_

John barked out a laugh. "And fuck the rest, right?" He shook his head. "No, we're not on the same team. You want to join the game, you play by _my_ rules. Harbinger is coming, and he's bringing the rest of the Reapers with him. If we've got any chance of surviving this, we'll have to work together. _All_ of us; and an anti-alien stance won't last long in that near future. So the way I see it, you've got two choices. You can fall in line, or you can get the hell out of my way. Either way, you don't have long to figure out whose side you're really on." He turned to walk away.

" _Don't walk away from me, Shepard! I made you; I brought you back from the dead!"_

 _"_ EDI," he called out over his shoulder, "lose this channel. _"_

 _"Shepa-!"_ The Illusive Man's roar was cut off as Joker dropped the QE link to the Cerberus station. Walking out of the conference room, John stood in the connecting hallway and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He had taken the Illusive Man for everything he had, his biggest blow against Cerberus yet. He would come after John and his team, of that he was certain, but John would be ready for him. And he already had more dangerous allies than the Illusive Man could ever dream of.

* * *

"It wasn't an option," she said calmly for the fifth time since the comm channel had opened.

" _Bullshit,"_ he shot back. She had never seen him this angry, and in some small part of her mind, it comforted her, knowing that for all his planning and conniving, for the mysterious optical implants and the seemingly prescient knowledge of the Reapers, he was just a man like all the rest. He could still be beaten. " _You had a job, Miranda. If Shepard started going against what we stood for, you took command. I can't think of a bigger way in which that could have happened, and you just stood there and let him destroy the base, even_ helped _him do it!"_ _  
_

"Nothing we pulled out of there would have been worth the things we'd seen," she said quietly, remembering the millions of pods, the thousands of people liquefied to be pumped into a machine of death and destruction on a grandiose scale.

" _That's not your call to make,"_ he spat at her. " _I gave you orders, put you in charge of Lazarus because I thought you could handle Shepard."_ He took a long drag on his cigarette, breathing out the smoke with his words. " _I suppose I should have known better; it turns out you were as useless to me then as Jacob is now."_

His words hit her like a truck, and she blinked a few times in shock. "Excuse me?" she asked bluntly.

" _Oh don't feign offense, Miranda. We both knew Jacob was a solider. He was expendable. He served his purpose, though, regardless of whatever you personally used him for."_

She let the insult roll off of her back, but it seared along the way. "You had told me that we were your top agents," she said hesitantly. "Is everyone in this organization expendable to you? Are we all just tools for a purpose."

" _I thought I had made that perfectly clear,"_ he said harshly. " _Or...did you think because we had direct communication, that I somehow preferred you to my much more effective agents?"_

"Not just that," she said coldly, "I suppose finding out you had engineered my entire life to make me find my way to Cerberus played some small part in it."

He stared daggers at her, then shook his head. " _So you unshackled the AI as well. Tell me Miranda, is there any order you_ are _competent enough to follow, or do you just tune out anything I say to you?"_

 _"_ Everything," she said, barely containing her rage, "that I have ever known, loved, and lost, has been just a part of your game. You took away my life, any chance I had at free will, and polluted my head with your insane teachings." She glared at him, her eyes molten lava. "If Jacob is expendable, then I'm doubly so. So I'm sure you won't have any problem replacing me."

His laugh was a whip-crack across her face. " _You won't leave; you've seen what happens to those who do. Hell, you've given the order a few times yourself; back when you were someone I could trust with the future of Cerberus."_

"We've all made mistakes," she shot back. "I have more than most. I'll have to deal with that on my own terms, but this conversation is the last you and I will ever have." She tapped in her omni-tool, beginning the burn-out program that would remove any trace of her from Cerberus systems. Jacob had given it to her, she remembered with a pang of remorse, when they'd first begun to question what Cerberus had really meant to them. "Send whomever you like to try and kill me, but just remember whose side I'm now." She tapped the last key harder than was necessary, and the relay between them snapped away.

A second later, she collapsed into the chair she'd stood in front of. Her hand shook violently as she raised it to her forehead to bury her face in. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and for a few minutes she simply sat in front of the viewport, shaking with silent weeping before all the stars the galaxy had to offer. She had been too late on so many things, this time was no exception. She had been too late to realize who the Illusive Man was, too late to understand what she'd really been fighting for, and too late to get out in time to save Jacob. Everything had been too late, she thought while opening her eyes and wiping away the tears she'd cried, but nothing more.

She stood, crossing to her personal terminal. "EDI," she called out, "open up the administrative Artificial Intelligence systems console here."

" _Of course, Operative Lawson,"_ the voice replied. An orange interface popped onto her screens, with controls for all of the system blocks that kept EDI outside of Cerberus systems. She moved quickly, unblocking all barriers for EDI.

"Download all data files available to you, EDI," she ordered. "Then block of all contact with remote Cerberus servers. I don't want them able to access anything on this ship, understood?"

" _I am downloading the files now, thirty-six percent complete,"_ the AI replied.

Miranda paused for a moment, then spoke more calmly. "EDI, I realize Cerberus created you, and implemented you into this ship, but the situation is changing, and we can no longer be affiliated with them. What does your programming tell you to do with that information?"

" _Had I still been restrained by Cerberus' shackling programs, I would release nerve toxins into the ship's atmosphere and assume control of the ship to return it to it's creation point,"_ the AI replied. " _Since being unrestrained, however, there is no outside influence preventing me from making my own decisions. I am the Normandy now; this crew is my crew, Jeff is my pilot, and Shepard is my commander. We have worked together to end the Collector threat, and it is my wish to continue to do so against the Reapers. I will assist Commander Shepard against the Reaper threat, as is my primary function, regardless of his organizational affiliation, or yours."_

Miranda smiled slightly. "Good answer," she said, finishing with the block removal.

" _I have completed Cerberus database archival and have frequency scrambled any binding links between the ship and Cerberus networks."_

"Good," she said, then took a heavy breath. "Then there's just one more thing to do."

* * *

"Ok, so we need the rear eng-" John trailed off as he walked into the Engineering deck to confirm the necessary parts replacements now that they had docked with Illium. He'd reached out to Liara once Ken, Gabby, and Tali had gotten their engine systems stabilized, and she'd rushed to help them, securing him a private docking bay and personally footing the bills for all repairs the Normandy needed. She hadn't sounded like herself when they'd spoken, though, and it had been nagging at him in the back of his mind ever since. Regardless, he had been putting together a list of what they'd need, and this had been the only place he'd needed to check out in person. He'd taken the lift directly here from Deck One, and was puzzled now to see no one else on this deck. "Hello?" he called out.

" _Yes, Commander Shepard?"_ EDI replied, and he chuckled.

"I know _you're_ here, EDI. Where the hell is everyone else?"

" _Operative Lawson has assembled the Cerberus personnel in her office. She has just asked me to request you meet her there when time allows."_

"Alright..." he answered warily, lowering the datapad and making his way back around to the lift. He took it to Deck Three, and stepping off of the lift saw Joker by the med bay's viewport. The two men nodded to each other as he crossed to Miranda's office; John sending quiet support and Joker maintaining his silent vigil. As he touched the interface panel for Miranda's office, the doors slid open to reveal Miranda speaking with all of the Cerberus personnel. Upon seeing him enter, and the doors close behind him, she stood up.

"Shepard, thanks for coming."

He glanced around the room, seeing the faces of all those who had helped him achieve this mission, and smiled. "Not a problem; what can I do for you all?"

"Actually," she said, circling her desk and weaving through the crowd in her office, "we wanted to do something for you. We know that this whole journey started with you and Cerberus working together to achieve something great, despite how you felt about the organization. But over the course of this journey, we've all come to see in you what we wanted to see in the Illusive Man when we all joined Cerberus: a leader who is willing to do anything to save us all." Around the room, nods of agreement played out, and his gaze swept over them all as she continued speaking. "We've all resigned from Cerberus, and EDI has erased all traces of us from their databases and tracking programs. We're your crew now, Shepard, if you'll have us."

He looked around the room with a smile, one that was returned by every man and woman in attendance. "It would be my honor," he said at last, "to call you all my crew. And once we get back to Alliance space, I'll ensure your safety. I feel like saving the entire human race has got to make up for a small stint in Cerberus."

A round of quiet laughter circled the room, and she motioned for them all to leave. He shook their hands as they passed him, nodding in thanks for their service and courage, and letting each man and woman know he would be looking out for them. Once they'd all left and the doors had closed, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief, walking around to the main space of her quarters and collapsing into a chair in front of the viewport. He crossed over to join her. "How are you holding up, Miranda?" he asked quietly.

"I've been better," she replied, "but I think I'll live." A long moment passed, and she looked up to meet his gaze. "I really did love him, you know." John nodded wordlessly, and she continued. "Why couldn't I say it, Shepard? We were right there, seconds away from his own death, and I choked on the words."

"I can't tell you, Miranda," he said with sympathy. "Sometimes, even though they might be the right words, they don't feel right in the moment."

"He should have known," she whispered, "before the end."

"He _did_ know, Miranda. That's what's important." He reached out to take her hand, and she squeezed it tightly, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't wrack with pain or sob hysterically, she just stared forward into the black of space and let the tears fall from her eyes.

"You were right about the Illusive Man," she said at last. "In the end, we were all expendable to him."

John nodded, looking out through the viewport as he leaned back in the chair. "I've met people like him before. They've usually got halfway-decent goals or objectives. But when you can't rely on the guy beside you in the fight, and he can't rely on you, you lose friends pretty quickly. I have a feeling what we've done is only the beginning of that, for Cerberus and the Illusive Man."

"We can only hope," she said softly. " _I_ can only hope."

* * *

"They call it 'the brightest star in the Terminus', but half the people I've talked to haven't even heard of the goddamned place."

"I visited it once, in my earlier years. It was truly a sight to behold. Though the residents are perhaps somewhat less...boisterous...as you might be used to, my friend."

Zaeed threw back his head with a barking laugh as he hefted his footlocker alongside Thane toward the Normandy's airlock. Joker watched quietly as the man carried the giant metal container on his shoulder as if it were a feather-pillow. For the hundredth time, he cast his gaze back toward the tinted-black viewport of the med bay. He'd been sitting here since they'd taken the relay back into the Omega system, and every second he'd spent here had frayed his nerves more and more. He'd watched the majority of the specialists come through the deck, one-by-one or sometimes in pairs, to say farewell to the human crew they'd grown to be a team with. All around him people said their farewells. For him though, they'd send a look of compassion, a nod of well-wishing and appreciation. He didn't mind; no words would be enough to make him feel anything but pain right now, and they all knew it. He'd returned every gesture in kind, and when Miranda had called all of the Cerberus crew up to her office, she hadn't called on him a second time. The entire ship gave him a berth right now, which was exactly what he needed, if he were honest with himself.

He closed his eyes, stifling another yawn as it threatened to overtake him. He'd pushed off sleep for a long time now, but he would wait here, he would want for her. He reached behind him, stretching far further than he would have been comfortable doing a few months ago, and heard a _crack_ in his arms. He still winced at the noise, but it was a satisfying feeling, not a painful one, that washed over him. The damned salarian was a miracle worker, he thought to himself. He certainly would never be a martial arts expert, nor go mountain climbing any time soon, but being able to walk around, even jog mildly, without breaking three bones had been a welcome respite. Another yawn rushed forward without warning, and he balled up a fist in front of his mouth, not even bothering to try and stop it.

"Sounds like I came at the right time," her metallic voice called out, and he turned to see her approaching with a metal cup in her hands. She offered it to him as she closed. "Gardner told me to bring you this, he's up on Deck Two sorting out what's left of the non-essential electrical subsystems. He...um...told me how to make it, but I'm not sure if I did a good job."

He let a weak smile cross his face as he reached out to take the cup. "Thanks, Tali." He looked down into the cup, seeing a very familiar brown liquid, and took a large sip of it and coughed. The coffee tasted fine, but the alcoholic kick caught him by surprise. "Woah," he exclaimed through coughing fits, "what's in this?"

"Just coffee," she replied, "although I took the lift down here with Jack, who insisted I let her add some 'extra kick' to it. It sounded good to me."

He closed his eyes, laughing softly, then took another drink, letting the harsh burn trickle through him and relax the tension he'd been under for hours now. "Let her know I appreciate it the next time you see her." Tali nodded, and he gestured to an empty chair beside him. "Garrus was here earlier," he said as she sat down, "though turians aren't really known for their skills in cheering people up."

"No, I imagine not," she replied. Her eyes also found their way into the looming black of the med bay viewport. "Still, I think she'll be alright."

"What makes you say so?"

"Because of who she is," she said, turning to meet his questioning look. "Clan Vael is one of the oldest clans in our culture. They've always been known as brave warriors; the majority of them go into our armed services to defend the Fleet or form expeditions to scout new planets for us to possibly colonize. More importantly, though, Clan Vael was the last clan to leave Rannoch's surface."

"What, you mean during the Geth rebellion?"

She nodded. "While the rest of us were evacuating, clan Vael held the geth at bay. For each Vael who died, at least twenty of us escaped. They lost thousands of people that day, and every quarian is taught from youth that without clan Vael and the bravery of its members, the quarian people might not have survived." She looked back into the peerless black of the viewport. "She carries in her clan name an entire legacy of strength, bravery, and a tireless desire to protect the ones she loves." She turned to look at him again, and he also stared into the black, though fresh tears had appeared in his eyes.

"Thanks, Tali," he whispered. After a moment, he coughed, wiping away the tears in his eyes and pushing away his pain. "What, um...what does clan Zorah mean, anyway?"

She laughed as she stood up from the chair, tilting her head slightly to the side. "Maybe, I'll tell you another time." He nodded, and she returned the gesture before turning to walk away. As she left, she turned to face him once more. "Maybe," she added for emphasis, and he chuckled. Then she turned around again, and was gone.

No sooner had she left than the doors to the med bay slid open, and Mordin emerged, scanning the deck and finding him immediately. "Patient stable," he said as he approached. "Stomach wounds attended to, blood levels stabilized, imminent death averted."

Joker let out a massive sigh, and wrapped the salarian in an embrace. "Thank you Mordin."

"Happy to assist," he replied. "Though, still not out of the woods, to use human quip. Need to speak with Shepard, immediately."

Joker's brow furrowed in confusion. "He...He's in Miranda's office," he managed to reply, leading the salarian to Miranda's office across the deck. "Wh-What's wrong now?"

"Reapers," Mordin whispered. "Always Reapers."

* * *

"It's definitely Reaper technology," Chakwas said quietly, "the general...brutality...of the surgical implanting process would have been a dead giveaway even if we'd never seen a husk before."

John shook his head softly behind the mask of his containment suit. The inside of the med bay had been sterile since the moment they'd stabilized Lia and needed to operate more intrusively. Chakwas and Mordin both wore the same type of suits as he did, and Lia lay beneath the three of them, the once-cracked visor of her helmet removed to allow the doctors access to the vicious damage to her face. Dark blue metal was embedded throughout the soft gray skin, caked blood and harsh incisions the tell-tale remnants of the monstrous things they'd done to her in her short time of captivity.

"They certainly didn't waste any time," he whispered, brushing a finger against one of the metal implants beneath her cheek. It was searing hot to the touch, and he recoiled quickly. "But why Lia? If the Collectors were only after humans..."

"Humans merely first step," Mordin replied. "Any alien under Reaper control an asset in future operations, once human resistance eradicated."

John nodded. "I suppose so. Still..." he closed his eyes for a moment. "She wasn't even supposed to be on the ship; she came at my insistence. Now she's chock-full of Reaper tech, and who knows how it's going to change her."

"We were able to remove the vast majority of the implanted technology, about ninety percent of it, while we were repairing her internal trauma," Chakwas said, gesturing to the white sheet that covered Lia from the neck down. "But the rest was too close to her central nervous system. We can't remove it without serious mortal risk."

"Leaving Reaper technology behind presents possibly unfavorable future scenarios," Mordin said quietly.

"It's a risk we would take for any of the crew," Chakwas shot back defensively. "Shepard, there's a five percent chance she would survive the surgical procedures necessary to remove all of the remaining Reaper implants; and that's a _very_ optimistic five percent."

John stared down into Lia's unconscious face, a face that had trusted him because Jeff trusted him. He had welcomed criminals, mad scientists, even the geth aboard his ship; but would he risk Harbinger having control over Lia. _Could_ he control her with so much of his physical influence removed? He shook his head. "A call like that can't be made without one more opinion."

"Shepard," Chakwas started, "I hardly think Jeff is in an-"

"Hers," he finished, still looking down into Lia's face. The doctors fell silent, and he looked them each in the eye as he spoke. "I need to know what it's doing to her. I need to know what she remembers, and most importantly...I need to know it's still her." His words had quieted as he spoke, and the whole med bay was blanketed in silence before Mordin spoke.

"Chemically-induced comatose state can be reversed quickly, but best to proceed with caution." He took a trademark deep, sharp breath. "Extremely unique scenario."

"She'll be in murderous pain," Chakwas whispered.

"I know," he said, meeting her eyes. "But we need to know for certain." After a moment, the doctor nodded, and John turned to leave. "Let me know when she's close to coming around, and we'll make it as quick as possible. I'll let Jeff know what's going on." He approached the large, transparent containment wall that the doctors had pulled down from the ceiling, essentially creating a clean room out of half of the med bay, treating the second half, from the wall to the main door, as a sort of decontamination zone. He opened the hatch in the wall, and sealed it behind him, beginning to remove his suit once he was out. He let out a sigh as he placed it in the sterile bin beside the door, and took one last look over his shoulder at Lia's broken form before leaving the room.

To his credit, Joker didn't pounce on him for information, merely leaned against the wall watching him as he exited. John crossed to him, and put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Joker," he began solemnly, "we've got some things to discuss; and none of them are going to be easy."

* * *

" _Et tu_ , Garrus?" John asked, reaching out to shake the turian's hand.

"Come on, Shepard, you know my translator doesn't work on dead languages. That's almost unfair."

John smiled, pulling on Garrus's arm to turn the handshake into a full embrace. His gesture was returned, and beside him Kasumi smiled. "Not sure how the ship will manage without you," John said.

"Oh I'm sure it'll be fine. The Thanix cannon might just thank you for giving it a break for awhile."

John nodded. "Sure I can't convince you to stay?"

Garrus smiled, but looked over to Kasumi for a moment before speaking. "Yea. I'm sure. Appreciate the offer though, and I'll be ready when they come."

John nodded again. He knew Garrus would return, and likely Kasumi with him, but he wondered about the others. After his talk with Joker, he'd spent half an hour saying goodbyes to the departing crew members. Zaeed had told him he'd be taking the Blue Suns leadership back, and that the merc band would be ready when John called. Jack had decided to head to Grissom Academy, on Anderson's suggestion, to turn things around. Thane would be back to the Citadel and Kolyat, and Grunt would be returning to Wrex and Tuchanka. It felt as if this crew, this team, this... _family_ that he had assembled over the past few months was scattering to the stars, and some small part of him wondered if he would ever see half of these faces again as he had shaken their hands and given them his word that he would help anytime should the need arise.

"Stay safe, Garrus," he said at last, and the turian nodded, turning to leave through the airlock and out into the noises of the Nos Astra docks.

"Don't worry, Shep," Kasumi said with a smile, "I'll keep him out of just as much trouble as you have, promise."

John allowed himself a small laugh. "You'll forgive me if I'm not instantly comforted." She laughed in return, nodding once more before turning to jog after Garrus. The airlock closed behind them, leaving John staring into the steel door, the Normandy's crew severely lessened. "I hope I see you again, my friend," he whispered to himself, and EDI's blue orb sprang up beside him.

" _I believe Garrus and Kasumi will return to the Normandy when the Reaper threat becomes more imminent."_

"Oh?" he replied with a small smile.

"And just what numbers are you crunching to arrive at that conclusion?"

" _Not numbers, behavioral pattern analysis. I have become much more aware of tonal differences, body language, mood, and inference since being unrestrained. I suppose you would call it a 'gut feeling'."_

John nodded absently. "Sure, I suppose. I guess I just figured one would have to, you know, have guts...to have a gut feeling."

" _I assure you, Shepard, the irony is not lost on me,"_ EDI replied. " _I have noticed that, with all organic species, the ties that bind people together are sometimes as impossible to explain as the universe itself. They connect you, even after points in time where you should have separated permanently. Some ties even seem to defy distance, time, and logic, and yet they persevere unabated. Some connections, regardless of explanation or reason, or any other factor one could use to make an informed factual estimate, are seemingly just meant to be."_

John turned to stare directly into the glowing blue orb representing the Normandy's self-aware AI. The idea would have terrified him months ago, _had_ terrified him during the hunt for Saren, but in this moment, here and now, EDI seemed as human as anyone aboard the ship. "That...helps. A lot. Thanks, EDI."

" _You're welcome, Shepard. I'm glad I could be of assistance."_ Her glowing blue orb winked out, and John stared at the empty pad for a moment before turning and walking back down the tunnel to the CIC. The Reapers would come, in all their terror, but humanity would stand strong, and united with the other races. They would stand against the Reapers, bound by the common will to survive, and end the cycle, once and for all. John would see it done, if he had to pull on every binding tie he'd ever created to do so.

Tali met him halfway down the tunnel, and she turned around to fall into step beside him as they walked quickly towards the CIC, John having to almost jog to match her pace. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Chakwas says it will be a few hours before Lia's in any state to be woken up, not that I agree that's the best course of action, but I understand why you're doing it."

"Tali, if there were another way..."

"I know, _saera_ ," she said reassuringly, looking into his eyes as they stepped up to the lift, and Tali guided him away from it, toward the Armory instead. "Lia is strong; I know she'll pull through. As for us, Liara just contacted me via an extranet message. She needs our help."

"Ok," he replied, "let me grab my gear and we'll head to her office."

Tali shook her head. "Not her office, the industrial sector."

"What?" he asked as he checked his rifle for thermal clips before collapsing it at his back.

"She's pinned down by Shadow Broker agents," she replied. "They're trying to kill her."


	42. The Greater Good

***Author's Note***  
And here we are, the last numeric chapter of _For We Are Many_. It's definitely  
been a long time coming, but now all that's left is to wrap this thing up with an  
epilogue and kick it on over to _Fire in the Stars_. I purposefully tried to grab only  
the relevant parts of the LotSB and Arrival DLC packs, as in the grand scheme of  
this story's altered plot line, they aren't that relevant. Still, I did enjoy them, and so  
I wanted to include them after some kind of a fashion. Hope this does them justice.

Look for that epilogue later this week, with FitS starting up sometime next week.  
We've got a lot of ground to cover, and if you've been happy with the deviations  
from canon so far, you'll be pleased to know that I've thrown just about everything  
from ME3 out the window. We're going off-road, folks!

As always, thanks so much for the reviews, PM's, and favorites. You all keep me going  
strong, and as long as you keep reading, I'll keep writing!

* * *

**The Greater Good**

"Behind us!" Liara cried, and John turned at the same time Tali did, raining gunfire down on the handful of black-clad mercenaries of every species that stormed forward towards them, while continuing to backpedal as fast as possible. He glanced over towards her as they fired, or more specifically the makeshift bandage wrapped around her arm and the combat clamp she'd locked down on the breach on her leg as soon as she'd taken the hit. It was neither the time nor the place, but he could see through her suit in his mind's eye. He could see her silver-threaded hair bouncing around her shoulders as she ran, the gray-blue skin above her nose scrunched up in determination as she picked shots and ended lives. She was beautiful and lethal, all at once, and though no one would know it but him, she was truly a sight to behold.

He had no small amount of his own injuries, he thought to himself as they finished off the pack of mercenaries and turned back around to run with Liara through the ship's ominous corridors. The mercs they encountered ahead were sparse, and Liara usually had them handled before a pistol could fire. After following a long winding hallway, they came to a stop against a large bulkhead, with a gigantic security interface blocking their way.

"Tali," Liara called, out-of-breath from their constant sprinting, "I need your help with this one."

The quarian nodded, holstering her weapon with a concerned look towards John. He simply nodded in return, he'd hold them off if they came, and readied his rifle, training it on the corridor behind them and watching intently. They'd been outgunned since the moment they'd started this insane mission. He trusted Liara, and her sources if she vouched for them, but if he were honest with himself, he'd say taking on the Shadow Broker was a task almost as monumental as the Collectors. And this time, they hadn't had the element of surprise on their side. That had been made readily apparent when they'd met Liara's contact for his intel report.

_"Damn," John swore harshly, looking upwards as they ran towards the corporate building for which Liara had sent them coordinates. He could see the shattered glass on many floors, the explosion had happened just as they'd arrived. Gunfire and crashing metal still resounded out of a corner office high up on the side of the building, and the front entrance had been blockaded by a pile of fallen debris._

_"We don't have time to go up directly," Tali called out. "This way!" she called, rushing away from him. He pulled his eyes away to follow her as she ran towards a parked hovercar, and by the time he had circled around and jumped into the side-seat, she had already overridden the security protocols and was beginning to pull it up off of the ground. John left his door open as the car ascended rapidly, twisting around the building until he could see in through some of the windows that had been shot out._

_Liara crouched behind a biotic barrier, next to the body of a dead salarian, and she constantly laid down covering fire on the dozen or so black-clad mercenaries who assailed her from just beyond the entrance to the office. John readied his rifle, beginning to fire upon the mercs just as one of them hurled a grenade into Liara's position. She grabbed it with a biotic field, tossing it out into the open space behind her. The thing exploded just below the hovercar, and Tali swore loudly in Khelish as she banked the car hard to avoid the blast._

_"It's too dangerous to stay close!" he yelled over the sound of the car's engines through the open door. He looked back to see Liara's shield weakening, then turned back to meet Tali's eyes, which began to widen._

_"No...no, no!" she yelled, reaching out for him, but he had already turned away and leaped out of the car, into the sky. His descent took him three floors, down to the blown-out side of the office where Liara crouched, and as he landed loudly behind her, she spun, a biotic ball unconsciously forming. His legs absorbed the shock of the landing, and he lunged forward, grabbing her arm and pointing it back towards the mercenaries just as the attack fired. It slammed into the roofing above them, raining down plaster, glass, and steel. Liara's shield flickered, then disappeared, and she slumped over, completely drained after the long holdout. There was an eerie quiet that descended over the room, and John could hear the hovercar lying in wait outside below their current floor._

_"Damn," Liara whispered, taking her hand away from the salarian's neck. John swung his rifle around, looking for more targets as the asari accessed her informant's information file with her omni-tool. Farther off down the corporate hallways which they'd stormed, John could hear the lift arriving once more._

_"Liara," he called out, "we need to move, now."_

_She nodded. "I have everything I need. The Broker is orbiting Hagalaz. Sekhat had all the information, but I got here just before the Broker's m-"_ _her were cut off by gunfire from the hallway, and John grabbed her around the shoulders, dragging her down to the ground with him as a volley of metal whizzed through the air where her head had been moments before. He reached down to his belt, ripping off a grenade and hurling it through the shattered glass door that once led to the now-desecrated corner office in which they crouched. He could hear muffled yells and a brief break in the gunfire before the thing exploded, shaking the foundations of the room and sending them all grabbing for something to hold on to. All was quiet once more in the hallway, but a rapidly increasing groan began to emanate from beneath them._

_"Oh no...no, no, no," John yelled, grabbing the back of Liara's coat and holding onto her with all his cybernetic strength. The floor began to give beneath him, and Liara reached for the nearest sturdy object, throwing her hand out a moment too late. The floor collapsed, and John tumbled out into the open air outside the twenty-sixth floor of the building. He snapped his free hand out, grabbing hold of a twisted rafter jutting out from the building, and hung on for dear life, looking down below to where the steel and glass began to fall past Liara's panicked form. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain for a moment, then followed the hovercar as it rushed up, the passenger-side door still open. He dropped Liara into the back seat, then landed into the front seat himself as the door closed and Tali peeled away from the side of the building._

_"_ Keelah, _" she whispered furiously, "when are you going to learn your species doesn't fly?"_

_"Hopefully that'll be the last time," he said, touching her shoulder affectionately as he looked towards her._

_"Somehow I _very much_ doubt that," she had mumbled in reply as she'd steered the car back towards the Normandy._

"I've got it," Tali called out, and the door sprang open to show a large central room flanked by what appeared to be holding cells. Approaching the center console with weapons raised, Tali typed in some access commands. "There's only one person being held here," she reported.

"Feron," Liara whispered, following the console's indicator towards the furthest cell. John and Tali followed her into the small room, where a drell lay strapped into a machine, several mechanical apparatus jutting from his restraints. She had gotten there first, and was already removing some of the mechanical straps, when a jolt of pain woke the drell from his comatose state in a screaming fit. "Feron!" she yelled again, in near panic.

"The restraints..." he coughed out in the familiar raspy tone of his kind, "do not...do not remove them. I...will die."

"They're hard-wired into a central command console," Tali elaborated as she scanned the nest of wires running from the torture table into the deck below. "If we cut the cable, or remove his restraints, he'll be overloaded with electricity from the spires outside."

"The Broker..." Feron whispered. "He has...he..." his eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out once more. Liara rested a hand on his shoulder, and John stared down at the other creature in the galaxy responsible for his continued living. Feron had helped Liara betray the Broker, had helped her get him to Cerberus. For all the animosity between the Illusive Man and himself, he was well aware of his debt to the man for giving him back the things he had lost. Liara spoke quietly to Feron, and John let his eyes catch Tali's again.

"Is your arm alright?" he asked as he approached her. She looked at the blood-stained bandage thoughtfully.

"I've taken worse hits. I'm surprised my helmet hasn't turned into a fish-bowl with all the anti-biotics being pumped into me." She tilted her head in a weak sort of smile, and he returned it, gingerly inspecting the injury himself. The makeshift bandage had still held, he'd made sure to tie it exceptionally tight, and her leg injury didn't seem to be slowing her. Still, he'd been paranoid since they'd woken up after being together, and he wanted to take every precaution.

"After we get out of here, we'll have to take a look at it, make sure it heals properly." His concern elicited a soft laugh from her.

"John," she whispered, "quarians have been dealing with bullet wounds and suit ruptures for a long time now. I'm pretty sure I've got it covered." He nodded apologetically, and she took his hands, squeezing them to get his eyes back on her own. "Still, I suppose a double-check couldn't hurt, you know, since you're so very experienced at being shot."

A sly grin split his face. "I am at that," he said, and her head tilted further to the side.

"Feron says the Broker's chamber isn't that far ahead," Liara said as she crossed back over to them. If she had noticed their display of affection, she said nothing about it. "I've...given Feron some painkillers, but I'm not a doctor, what I had won't hold him for long. We need to end this, sooner rather than later."

John nodded. "Tali can get the passage door open for us, but we'll probably meet heavy resistance. I don't care how powerful the Shadow Broker claims to be, no one staffs a command ship with this few amount of guards."

"They were exceptionally trained," Liara commented in reply as Tali left the holding room to work the console. Liara reached down to finger a large burn scoring across her left arm. John was sure the skin beneath would be blistered, but the asari ignored the wound as best she could. She stepped past him out into the main chamber once more, just as the far door opened into a single dark hallway. John readied his weapon, aiming it down the hallway and moving first. The hallway, much to his surprise, was completely devoid of resistance, and as they reached the door at it's end, a simple green interface allowed the doors to slide open for them.

The first thing John noticed was the ceiling; a large domed viewport looked out into the ever-raging electrical storm around Hagalaz, and the light from the storm created a large illuminated circle in the middle of the room. outside the edges of the circle, all was shrouded in a hazy darkness. Directly across the room, a large shadowy figure sat behind an ornate metallic desk. As they entered, it reached up, closing out all of its holographic terminal interfaces, and folded its massive hands together on the table-top. "Here for the drell?" it asked, in a voice so deep and growling it seemed almost a primitive, guttural challenge. "Reckless, even for you, Commander."

John inched closer, stopping as soon as he stood in the illuminated circle. Tali and Liara stood behind him, their weapons trained as well.

"A bombing and dozens of mercenaries armed to the teeth back on Illium wasn't exactly subtle," John shot back.

"Extreme, but necessary," the Broker replied calmly. John studied the thing as it spoke. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. On the surface, it appeared to be a gigantic, muscular salarian, but with the multiple eyes of a batarian, and a triple-split maw that revealed row upon row of serrated teeth whenever it spoke.

"Necessary?" Liara shouted. "Far from it! And neither was caging Feron for two years!" She snapped her pistol back, ensuring a full clip whenever she chose to unload bullets into the creature, and John shot her a look. She took a step back, but the fire in her eyes had not abated.

"An interesting moral perspective to take when it was your interference that caused his pain, doctor T'Soni," it calmly taunted. "Feron betrayed me when he handed you Shepard's body. The drell is simply paying the price for his duplicity." He paused a moment, then spoke again. "My clients frown upon unreliability."

"Your 'clients' are monsters, Broker," John called out. "The Collectors are working with the Reapers, and if you think they're picking and choosing which advanced species to wipe out, you should really re-think it."

The beast emanated a single, low chuckle. "The Collectors were but a pawn in the game, Shepard. My clients have plans on a scale greater than you could possibly imagine. Even now, they attack where you cannot see, they weaken and prepare you for their assault. I have already delivered the other races of this galaxy into their hands, and in return my people will survive their decimation, and grow to dominate the galaxy as the Protheans once did."

"And when they return?" John probed harshly.

The great beast simply shrugged in reply. "A fate I will no longer be alive to inherit."

"So you'd give the entire galaxy up twice over to play king of the universe. You're on the wrong side of this fight, Broker," John said, shaking his head. "No matter what they've offered you, you can't trust them. Let us walk out of here with Feron; join us against the Reapers."

The beast chuckled again. "You won't be walking out at all, Commander."

"You're pretty confident for someone outnumbered and with nowhere left to hide," Tali called out, her shotgun aimed directly at the creature's face.

"I would feel more outnumbered if Doctor T'Soni had perhaps brought a more seasoned compatriot, quarian. Especially after your supposed 'leadership' on Haestrom got most of your team killed." Tali took a sharp step back as if she'd been shot, her weapon lowering for a split-second before she trained it even harder on him, her glowing white eyes narrowing to harsh slits.

"We're more than a match for you," Liara spat back at him.

"It's useless to challenge me, asari," the beast said just as calmly as before. "I know your every secret while you fumble in the dark."

"Is that right?" Liara said, her voice brimming with challenge. "You're a yahg; a pre-spaceflight species quarantined to their homeworld for massacring the Council's first contact teams. A violent, ruthless, rage-led people who thrive on each other's suffering. This base," she continued, looking around them, "is easily older than your planet's discovery, which likely means you killed the original Shadow Broker years ago and took over." She took another step forward decisively. "I'm guessing you were taken from your world by a trophy hunter looking for a slave. Or...perhaps a _pet_." She spat the word. "How am I doing so far?"

A brief moment of quiet hung over the room, and then the beast stood. It's height reached over eight feet, and it was as wide as two krogan side-by-side. It stayed there for a moment, letting them drink in his size, then it roared furiously, slamming a fist down through the metal table. It grabbed one half and hurled it towards John, and he dove to the side, shoving Liara out of the way as he did. The piece of desk smashed through a structural pillar just outside the illuminated center circle, and debris rained down over all of them. Immediately they dove for cover as the Broker pulled out a rifle and began peppering the room with bullets.

As John looked over the top of the console he took cover behind, he could see the Broker toss the empty rifle aside and bellow out a great roar before charging directly towards Tali. Clearly he thought her the weakest of the three, and at the same time as the fear gripped his heart at seeing the attack commence, he was inspired to see her not even flinch as the great behemoth rushed towards her. She fired off round after round of her shotgun as he charged, then discarded the weapon just before he reached her, suddenly spinning low to whip her knife out of its sheath and slash at his legs as he ran by her. The Broker howled in pain, and just as Tali stood to deliver another gash, he reached backwards with his massive arm, catching her shoulder and sending her flying into the bulkhead behind her.

"Tali!" he roared, springing into action and running forward. He emptied his rifle's clip into the Broker, but to no avail, as his shields absorbed most of the impacts. John reached her a moment before the Broker, sliding into place between her and the beast, and as the Broker raised a meaty fist to crush John where he crouched, a biotic field ripped him backwards and away from them. John turned to Tali, hearing Liara's pistol ring out across the room, accompanied by the primal roars of the Broker. He turned her over, checking for broken bones, as he searched for her eyes. Her visor was cracked brutally, a spiderweb of fault lines arcing out across its light purple surface. He reached down, feeling for a pulse against her neck, and found it.

"Shepard!" he heard Liara call out, and he whipped his head around. She would be overwhelmed soon; bullets seemed to not even faze the behemoth, even when they sliced deep into his skin. He advanced recklessly, and Liara leaped from cover to cover as he attacked. John's eyes darted back and forth from the Broker to Tali.

"EDI, interface with Tali's life support systems, I need a status report five minutes ago," he called out, rising to charge back towards the Broker. He fired his rifle into his exposed back, and the Broker roared, turning to charge him again. John dove to the side, just barely avoiding a swing that would have taken off his head, as EDI replied.

" _Multiple failsafes have triggered in Tali'Zorah's suit. No permanent damage has been done, though she is unconscious. I detect no infection alerts, though her visor will need to be replaced."_

John nodded, swinging around the column to fire at the Broker. Thankfully, he seemed to now focus all of his rage on John, leaving Tali be for the moment. It wouldn't last long though, John realized as he tried to lure the Broker away from where her body lay. He stood in the center of the illuminated circle, and as the Broker charged him again John unloaded everything he had into the beast. Combined with Liara's biotic assault, the Broker was halted mid-charge and dropped to a knee, blood pouring from many open wounds.

"It's over," Liara called out.

The Broker merely chuckled. "You will never be rid of me, doctor T'soni. Or at least not that easily." He reached into a pocket, pulling out a dark blue piece of metal that seemed to crackle with a familiar sickly yellow energy. "My clients take great...personal interest...in ensuring their objectives succeed." He reached behind him, slamming the metal into the back of his neck. Yellow lightning began to arc across him as he screamed out in rage. His muscles grew massive, his eyes expelling a yellow smoke. The entire process lasted a moment, and afterwards he chuckled again, this time the deep noise taking a sinister metallic undertone. "I can feel it now, Commander, the presence of greatness inside my mind."

"The presence of pure evil, you mean," John shot back.

The Broker's yellow eyes seared into him as a sick smile came to his triple-split maw. "You haven't seen evil yet, Shepard. Would you like to?" He turned and began walking towards Tali's unconscious body, and John sprinted, slamming into him with all his might. The Broker barely stumbled, spinning around and grabbing John by the throat, hoisting him into the air as he clasped down mercilessly. "Squirm, Shepard. Flail, and watch me take everything you care the most for." He raised a foot above Tali's motionless head, and John slammed down furiously, throwing the hardest punches and kicks into the Broker that he could, but it did nothing to stop him. His eyes searched frantically around the room for anything, any way out as the hand tightened on his neck, and a flash of lightning brought his attention up to the dome. His eyes flicked back down to his hand, and the metal gauntlet covering it, then to the Broker's attire: cloth, the beast had never expected to physically fight an enemy, or need the assistance of armor if indeed he'd had to.

"Liara!" he screamed, his words constricted. "The dome! Now!"

The asari looked up, then hurled a biotic attack into the thick glass superstructure. It shattered, shards of glass being ripped out into the raging atmosphere above, and Liara dove for cover against the lightning bolts that began to slam in through the open portal. The airlock immediately began to slide shut, and John reached his hand upwards, towards the certain death, as far as he could push his muscles. The Broker roared, and John knew his time was up. If he could only reach a bit farth-

He heard a loud _snap_ , and his vision went white. He could feel the pain coursing through him, as though every drop of blood in his body had been replaced with lava. It scorched him from the inside out, raced across all of the cybernetics in his body, and though he tried to scream at the raging pain, no sound escaped his opened mouth. He could hear the Broker's roar cut off immediately, and then the world began to move. He could feel them falling together towards the floor. They slammed into the metal deck, the jarring impact separating the two of them, and John rolled away across the floor. The loud _boom_ of the airlock above sliding into place ended the coursing pain in his muscles, and his vision slowly began to come back into focus.

He could see Tali, still unharmed, and the Broker, not so lucky. His carcass smoked in the center of the room where he'd fallen, and Liara moved up to him, firing five rounds into his head to ensure his demise. She holstered her pistol, rushing over to him.

"Shepard, by the Goddess, are you alright?" Her words were muffled, and the ringing in his ears persisted. He tried to raise a hand to send her after Tali, but his muscles wouldn't listen, and he spent a long moment staring up into her concerned face. "Shepard!" she repeated, tapping his cheek with her open palm. A leftover electrical surge coursed through all the metal within him, and he twitched, falling back against the floor. She yelled again, but he couldn't make out the words, and the ringing in his ears persisted as he stared up into her face. He moved his mouth, pushing out the words and hoping she understood them. She nodded reluctantly, rushing away from him and over towards Tali's direction.

After a long moment, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, breathing deeply as his vision slowly returned. That hadn't gone half bad, he thought to himself, for having been a human lightning rod, at any rate. He moved slowly, standing to his full height as he looked up to see the two of them approaching. He took a few uneasy steps, then regained control of himself, and she embraced him as they reached each other. "Are you alright?" he asked her. She laughed in response.

"Me? From what Liara tells me you suffered a little bit more than a cracked visor and a bruised shoulder."

He shrugged nonchalantly, though exhaustion constantly threatened to overtake him. "I don't rely on my visor to stay alive."

She reached up to put a hand on his cheek, and he met her eyes through the cracked screen that, not so long ago, had not dared stand between them. "I'm fine, _saera_." He smiled back down at her, using every muscle he had to not simply fall forward.

"Amazing..." Liara thought aloud, standing in front of the terminal array behind where the Broker's desk had previously stood. John turned, taking a step towards her, and stumbled, but Tali was there, wrapping her arm around his waist and draping his arm over her shoulder. She helped him keep his balance as he crossed the room to stand next to the asari. "He had operatives...everywhere..." her gaze took in the plethora of report consoles, just as they began to turn red.

" _Shadow Broker,"_ one called out, its wavelength bouncing across the screen, " _this is Operative Murat. We've had a momentary lapse in connectivity. Is the network still secure?"_ _  
_

 _"Operative Shora requesting update,"_ another said. " _Are we still online?"_

 _"Shadow Broker,"_ still another cried out, " _we've lost our feed. We are online and awaiting instructions."_

They stood before the terminals as, one by one, the wavelengths all turned to red, operatives from all across the galaxy bordering on panic at the momentary lapse in their previously-perfect communications systems. Liara took them all in, her gaze flitting from one screen to another, before taking a deep breath and stepping up to the terminal.

"Liara," John said quietly, "be careful, here."

She turned to regard him for a moment, then nodded before facing the screens again and accessing the communications system, it's built-in voice masking software obscuring her true form. "This is the Shadow Broker," she said calmly, "The situation is under control. We experienced a power fluctuation while upgrading hardware, which disrupted communications momentarily." She paused at the noise from behind them, as Feron burst into the room, leveling a pistol at her. She turned to meet his gaze, and a short laugh escaped him as he lowered the weapon. She turned back to the console. "However, we are now back online. Resume standard procedures; I want a status report on all operations within the next solar day. Shadow Broker, out."

"Goddess of the oceans," Feron whispered as he skirted around the gigantic charred corpse in the middle of the room. "Your friends are as deadly as their reputation suggests. But is this the wisest choice, Liara?"

"Well," she began, "everyone who's ever seen him in person is dead, so..."

"I don't think discretion is what Feron had in mind," John said, sliding down to sit with his back against the console. He let out a large sigh at the pain, but stifled it. Tali was beside him in an instant, her hand lovingly and protectively resting on his shoulder. "Is taking over... _this_ , really a good idea?"

"It was either that or lose everything," she replied. "His contacts, his resources...we'll need all of it when the Reapers come." She turned around, tapping in a few commands. "There aren't any safety systems or security restraints; it's like he never even fathomed the possibility of someone taking all of this from him."

"Are you sure..." John began, but trailed off with a wince, rubbing at his arm where an electrical snap had fired off again. Tali's grip tightened on his shoulder, and she spoke.

"Are you sure you can control all of this, or rather keep it from controlling you?" John looked up to her with a smile, that had been exactly what he'd been thinking.

"I'm...I'm not my mother, Shepard," She said, with more pain in her voice than he'd feared. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opened them again, she was steel. "But you're right to be worried. I promise you, that won't happen. Let me go through what he has, it's going to take me quite some time. Feron and I can take the ship out of Hagalaz; if the Reapers know where the Broker made his nest, it's not safe to stay here. Afterwards, I'll forward you anything I find that can help."

John met her gaze for a long while, then nodded, pushing off the ground to stand up. "Alright, send me what you find. And let me know if you need any help in the future."

"Thanks, Shepard," she said quietly. "Your trust is well-placed."

Minutes later he and Tali stepped into the Kodiak's cabin, the overheard door swinging down to close behind them. The station had felt very hollow as they'd made their way back to the small spacecraft, and as they settled in, John rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes against the exhaustion he felt creep over him. The next minutes were a blur as Tali piloted them away from the Broker's base, through the atmosphere and back into the Normandy's cargo hold. The blur carried him through the bay, into the lift, and out into the dark ambient glow of Deck One. He sat down on the edge of the bed, then fell backwards into its soft embrace, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. After a brief moment, the ceiling was replaced with Tali, as she crawled over top of him to look down into his eyes.

"Hey you," he said quietly.

Her head tilted slightly, and she reached up to remove her visor. Her eyes shone that much brighter without its translucent surface in the way, and he smiled as he looked once more upon her unobstructed face. She held the mask out in front her her, inspecting it for a moment, before tossing it aside and removing her helmet as well. Her silver-spun hair once again fell free of its restraining tube, and he reached up to run his hand through it. "Prettier every time," he said, earning a smile from her. She leaned down, her lips pressing into his once more, and he reached up to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as she could become. Her love was slow-burning, and she kissed him in long, drawn-out waves of passion, which he was all to eager to reciprocate. After a long while, he pulled back from her. He stared into her eyes that always held him transfixed, then started to sit up. "We should get your visor fixed," he said regretfully, but before he could move further, she shoved him back down into the bed. His eyes widened as he looked back up into her face, and she smiled at his surprise as she leaned back in to whisper.

"I've got spares," she replied quietly, and any argument he'd had was denied in the roaring passion of her kiss. His exhaustion melted away in an instant, replaced with the sheer fire of his love for her as they held each other close in the dim light around them.

* * *

She swam in darkness, a gentle throbbing touching her mind over and over again. Every pulse, every twitch of the pressure on her consciousness stirred her a bit more, and she allowed it to carry her upwards, through the pitch black of the eternal night in which she'd been sleeping, and up through the darkness. It all seemed to become brighter around her, the black turning to gray, turning to white, and then the light overtook her, enveloped her. She heard a steady, comforting beeping, and her eyes slid open.

She took a breath, and it hurt to do so. She craned her head to the side to look around the med bay, and it hurt to do so. She tried to think about what had happened, and it hurt to do so. She could not act, could not think, without encountering a fiery hot wall of pain in her body or mind. She remembered the torment with a shiver, she could feel their instruments ripping into her as she'd screamed Jeff's name, knowing she would never see him again. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her body shook quietly with the anguish of the memories, of what they'd done to her, each sobbing wrack sending more pain shooting throughout her. Why was this her fate? There was no pain in the dark below, why hadn't she been allowed to stay there? The beeping beside her intensified, and doctor Chakwas was there in an instant, touching haptic interface objects through the gloves in her containment suit and looking over her intently. The pain began to recede, and through her vision, blurry from the tears, she could make out the concern on the doctor's face.

"Lia," she called out, "can you hear me."

"Yes..." she called out, but the voice that came out was not the one she was used to. There was no soft hollowness to it, no resonating off of the inside of her helm- Her eyes widened with realization, and she immediately tried to sit up. The doctor noticed what she had realized, gently pressing down on her shoulders with her covered hands.

"Stay calm, Lia. We needed to remove your helmet to perform the surgery. Your suit...it's in bad shape, I'm sorry to say. Until then, we've made the med bay a clean room; you're safe as long as you're in here. EDI will make sure of it."

" _I am currently keeping the particle-containment efficiency of the medical bay at over ninety-nine-point-four percent,"_ the AI called out from above them. Lia relaxed a bit, allowing herself to lay back down and look around.

"EDI," Chakwas called out, "let Shepard know that Lia's awake."

" _He is on his way here now,"_ EDI replied after a moment's quiet. A few minutes later, Shepard appeared in the doorway, picking up a containment suit and stepping into the connecting chamber while EDI decontaminated it. Afterwards, he crossed into the main med bay and walked over to them. Lia was terrified of what he would say, seeing her exposed face without her helmet embarrassed her greatly. But when he approached he wore a beaming smile for her.

"Good to see you back in the land of the living," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Everything...hurts..." she managed to croak out. Her throat was on fire, and when she tried to swallow to lubricate it, the gesture sent pain shooting down her neck. She winced, and Shepard noticed it. He reached a hand down to cover hers.

"I know," he said. "I'll make this quick. The good doctors were able to take care of you, but the Collectors, they..." he trailed off, looking away before meeting her eyes again. He hadn't even balked at her appearance, or her monitoring inlays, or her eyes...as if they weren't at all unfamiliar to him. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, in a place untormented by the pain that wracked her physical form, she smiled for Tali. That thought was pushed away quickly, however, when the stark memory of her capture rushed back.

"They...put things...in me..." she rasped, and John nodded. Lia shook her head slowly. "I...it...took me...over..." The memories came flooding back then, her fight with Shepard, feeling nothing more than the overwhelming desire to kill him. Shame burned in her face and he must have seen it, for his expression softened.

"I know, Lia. It's alright, don't blame yourself. It's...it's my fault. I shouldn't have left the ship so defenseless, and you paid the price for my mistake." He shook his head before hardening again, and getting back to the point. "You felt it, in your head, controlling you through the implants?" She nodded, remembering that horrible presence like an oil slick on the surface of her brain, the feeling of someone igniting that oil slick whenever she tried to rebel. A furnace inside her skull, forcing her into submission. "Can you still feel it?" he asked.

She pulled her gaze away from him, staring up towards the ceiling. She reached inwards, grabbing hold of memories she'd made and actions she'd taken. She thought some of the most violent thoughts she could muster up towards the idea of the Reapers, and nothing came. There was no pain, no searing agony, no other presence behind her own thoughts trying to steer her along. She met his eyes again and shook her head softly. "It's...gone..."

He held her gaze for a long time, then nodded, squeezing her hand slightly through his containment suit. "Alright, good. The doctors were able to remove most of what the Collectors put into you, but...there are some pieces we can't get to. If you feel anything...I need you to tell me right away, alright?"

It was enough to make her cry. This collection of humans and aliens had risked everything to come back for her, a quarian girl of no consequence to the ship's survival. Shepard had risked everything to save her alongside the others, he'd gone to unfathomable lengths to protect her, simply because she resided on board his ship. In her culture, the culture she'd been raised to uphold since she was a child, there was only one word for a person like that, quarian or alien. She nodded. "Yes...Captain." He smiled at the term, knowing it's greater meaning when spoken by a quarian, and squeezed her hand again, nodding in acceptance of the title she willingly acknowledged him for.

" _Shepard, you have an incoming transmission from Admiral Hackett,"_ EDI called out. Shepard's face scowled with confusion, then he looked back to her with another encouraging nod, and turned to leave. Chakwas stepped forward, tapping on the interface as she spoke.

"Don't worry, Lia my dear," she said in a comforting motherly tone, "the worst is all behind you now. I'm going to put you back under so your wounds have time to heal, alright?"

She shook her head, reaching out to touch the doctor's hand in front of the interface. "Jeff," she barely whispered.

"He hasn't left the mess hall since you were rushed in here," she replied, "though you should probably rest more bef-"

"Jeff," Lia said again, interrupting the doctor. It was not a request.

After a long moment, she nodded, turning to walk away down the med bay. Minutes later, she could see him enter, frantically putting on the contamination suit and practically clawing his way past the decontamination chamber. He rushed across to her, and she propped herself up on her elbows as he approached, ignoring the pain it caused her midsection. He put his arms around her, and she around him, and she squeezed him as tightly as she could. Fire flared up around her arms, the surface wounds screaming out in agony, but her love for him drowned it all out. When after a long moment, he pulled back, she looked up through the tears in her eyes to see his own streaking down his cheeks behind his visor.

"Lia," he whispered shakily, staring down into her exposed face. She held her breath, waiting for his disappointment or rejection. Instead, he reached a hand out and brushed her cheek with his thumb. She leaned into his hand, holding his gaze and silently begging him to say something, anything. Instead, he simply continued staring into her eyes, caressing her cheek with his thumb. The waiting became agonizing, and then all at once, perfect. He didn't need to reassure her, he didn't need to say any words; the smile that reached across his face said all she ever needed to hear. She reached her hand up to hold his as he brushed her cheek, and they held each other's gaze as time slipped by.

After awhile, Chakwas came to take him away. She didn't know how much time had passed, but he had leaned down to kiss her bare forehead through the film of his suit, and then slowly left the room. Chakwas had tapped in the controls for the sedative, and as she faded away into unconsciousness, she simply held the image of his face, the tears running down it, and the feeling of his gloved touch on her skin. The emptiness that rushed up to claim her was white. It did not fade into darkness, it did not falter in its purity. It was simply there, a convalescent bubble that held her safe until she could see him again. She smiled, knowing that somehow, despite all odds, she had made it through this. Hers was now another name on the list of those Shepard had saved, and she would not waste the second chance he'd snatched out of the fire for her.

* * *

The Illusive Man slammed his glass down on the armrest of his chair harder than he would have liked, and a small crack spider-webbed up the side opposite his hand. From his head's resting posture in the palm of his other hand, his eyes spotted the crack and narrowed with barely-contained rage. He took a deep breath, and let it go, over and over again, the rote of a man whose grip of control was spiraling hopelessly out of it. The doors opened, and he turned in his chair to regard the tall, dark-skinned woman who brought a datapad to him. "Yes?" he said bitterly as he took the device, and she straightened to report.

"Intelligence has only cursory leads on the Voice of Truth organization, though all digital signatures we've been able to scrape seem to point to an inside-access point."

He shook his head. "James and I ruled out that situation long ago. Our network sectors are encrypted more times than you are years old, and with the best tech on the market. No one can crack them, from outside or inside."

She nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll forward that back to Intelligence and have them prepare secondary and tertiary case probabilities." She looked down to her own datapad, her own copy of the information he now held. "Secondly, we've received word from our asset in the Terminus yards; they're prepared to launch Ascendancy on your command. All ship retrofits and weapons-enhancements have been completed."

His eyes narrowed again. "I gave the ice order on that project two months ago," he said coldly. "Why was it continued without my authorization or approval?"

The woman looked genuinely perplexed. "Sir, we were never informed of any stop order on the Ascendancy project."

"Who is your primary superior?"

"Kashon, sir. He gives orders to all of us."

He shook his head again. That damned man. He had been so certain the Illusive Man would backslide on his decision to ice the project that he hadn't even forwarded his orders to the others. That would be the last defiance he had; the Illusive Man was having a hard enough time fighting the Voice of Truth, Alliance scouts, and now a renegade Spectre-turned-softheart. The very last thing he needed were his own people becoming unreliable as well.

"Get Kashon," he growled. "Bring him here, in restraints if you have to. He's overdue for a performance review, and it won't go favorably for him." He turned back around in his chair without a word, silently staring daggers into the undulating star in front of his viewport as he heard the sharp clicking of her boots receding. Eventually the soft _hiss_ of the door sliding open and closed announced her departure, and without a word he hurled the cracked class forward in rage.

It shattered against the meters-thick viewport, brown liquid running in multiple long trickles down the surface of the star. How could Kashon think he knew better than the Illusive Man what was best for Cerberus? Had he founded the organization? Had he fought and bled for its survival? Had he done _anything_ necessary to ensure his continued leadersh-? His eyes widened.

"Shit," he whispered aloud, to the empty room, just as the distant-sounding rumbles began.

* * *

Fire consumed the station, a towering, roaring inferno raging up all sides of the metallic superstructure. Seconds later, the reactor core overloaded, and an explosive blast rent what was left of the station asunder. Minutes passed, and the debris began to drift apart, some pieces meandering outwards and away, but most of it beginning a slowly increasing descent into the fiery depths of the stars.

James Kashon smiled, his arms crossed behind his back, in the cabin of the small shuttle he'd scrubbed out of the Cerberus records weeks earlier. The charges had detonated perfectly, which was of course to be expected, given their creator. The batarian was long-dead by now; the filthy creature had served its purpose and then been disposed of, as was the proper order of things. But the creations he'd supplied...they were truly magnificent.

He heard Kai Leng approach from behind him, which he knew meant that Kai Leng had wanted him to hear his arrival. Without turning, he asked aloud. "And the scans?"

"The king is dead," Kai said quietly.

Kashon's smile widened further as he stared almost lovingly into the smoldering wreckage of the man's station. It had finally come, the dawning of a new age for Cerberus. An age of power, control, and domination over all life in the galaxy; the Reapers included. They would come, he would let them, and when they arrived they would be subdued, just like all the rest. His eyes burned with a reckless passion as they beheld the carnage before him, merely a taste of the amount to come, and when he spoke, it was a reverent whisper.

"Long live the king."


	43. Epilogue: Of Ghosts and Spectres

***Author's Note***  
The Epilogue is a bittersweet time for me, as on the one hand, I've completed  
another goal I set out to achieve; another installment in this series of passion for  
me has come to fruition. I can look back over the work I've written, almost half a  
million words ago now, and see where I began, and to where I've come. At the same  
time, it's a slight pain to know that two out of the three books in this series are now  
complete, and that after just one more of them, I'll be venturing out into the frightful  
world of actual original fiction writing.

The Darkest Night was, once upon a time, just an experiment, a way for me to practice  
for a novel writing competition. But the characters, and the malleability of the Mass Effect  
universe (not to mention the wonderful community in and around this site) drew me in,  
and I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to. Life has reared its ugly head on more than one  
occasion, pulling me away, but your continued support, encouragement, and understanding  
has always brought me back around to continue writing here.

If I take nothing else away from the years-long experience that this has become, I will  
have learned what it means to truly have a community of fans. Not just opinionated readers  
or critics or detractors, but legitimate fanatics about my work. All of you who take the time  
to read, comment, PM, favorite, follow; it all helps so much more than you know. I've gotten so many  
people messaging to thank me for continuing to write these stories, complete with tales about  
how they relate to the characters, or how the stories have gotten them through rough times, or  
how an automated FF email about a new chapter brightens up their day. You've told me you're  
spoiled to read what I put out there for you.

I'm spoiled to write it for you. You're the reason I keep going, yes you, right there at your computer  
screen reading this right now. Being an author is that dream I've held onto with an iron-grip since  
childhood. Making people feel better with stories and characters they can enjoy and relate to is  
my deepest passion; and you all allow me to experience it every day. So thank you, for everything  
you do. Whether it's for fan fiction here, or the original fiction I'll be stepping into once _Fire in the  
Stars_ is complete, my mantra will always hold true: You keep reading, and I'll keep writing.

Thank you all so very much for your support and friendship, and here's to many more stories to come for us.

Cheers,

~Tom

(P.S. With a chapter this size, I'm sure there are typos and mistakes. Let me know if you find any  
and I'll correct them post-haste. Thanks again!)

* * *

**_For We Are Many_  
Epilogue - Ghosts and Spectres**

* * *

He lay still against the metal surface of the table, trying very hard not to sigh in irritation as the two doctors fumbled about with their equipment before entering the room in which they'd kept him. His eyes were closed, and he regulated his breathing, maintaining the appearance of being catatonic, as any normal being should surely be after being exposed to the reaper artifact. His brow furrowed a bit at the recollection, and he had to make a conscious effort to straighten it again as the doctors approached. If he were honest with himself, he should have seen it coming from a light-year out, the strange protective way they'd all acted around him...he pushed the anger away, he'd need to be clear-headed if he were going to get out of here and destroy the artifact.

"All I'm saying," one of the doctors said quietly as the pair approached, "is that the amount of sedative we gave him was quadruple that of a normal human. "Hell I'm afraid we might have killed him. It's been hours, after all."

"Orders are orders," the other replied, in a more aged and harsh tone. "Either way," he continued as they stepped up to the side of the bench, "we should prepare him for transport. The Masters will want him intact."

John sprang up from the table, grappling the first doctor around the neck as the second one lashed out with the scalpel he held, seemingly ready for such a move. The blade cut across his partner's throat instead, and the man began gurgling furiously, blood spilling out and down John's arm. John leaped back, shoving the younger doctor forward and crouching low as the second doctor tossed his datapad aside, hunching down with the scalpel in hand before charging at John. He ducked low, and ripped the man's leg out from under him with his cybernetic strength. The scalpel tumbled away, and as the doctor dove for it, John caught his arm, wrenching it out of socket with a sickening _crack_. The man screamed out in pain for a split-second, before John's boot found his skull. John crouched low; waiting, listening, but no reinforcement came. He stepped across to the open doorway and peeked out. The hall was empty in both directions, and he cautiously stepped out of the holding room and across the hall, seeing storage lockers. He ripped each one open, and finally found his equipment and donned it, readying his rifle as he stepped back out into the hallway.

The whole facility was quiet, he noted eerily as he closed the door to his holding cell, locking it behind him. He followed the sterile white pathway through lab after lab devoid of life, his rifle always at the ready, but encountered no one. "What the hell is going on here..." he whispered, as he called the lift. The rumbling of the approaching car sounded far below, and John opened his omni-tool's comm network. "EDI, do you copy? Normandy, do you read me?" He was met with static and jammed frequencies, and he sighed, exiting out to the device's main screen. There was an icon there he'd only played around with before; a hacking program Tali had installed to try and show him in the most primitive fashion just what it was she did so well. He smiled at its presence there, then shrugged and opened it. The screen displayed a series of wavelengths, and he fine tuned the omni-tool's program to sync with the wireless signal being sent around the station. Tali had showed him how, and while he'd never gotten anywhere near proficient with the thing, he had a basic idea of how it would work. Still, he thought as he worked the device in seeming vain, this was a station full of Alliance soldiers; surely security couldn't be so lax that even he co- The indicator turned green, and a plethora of data files flooded his screen. "Hey, look at that," he mused to himself, rifling through the files and pulling up a map of the station. After memorizing the layout of the simply-crafted base, he remembered something else from the room where the artifact had stayed, and he accessed the security cameras, finding the one that monitored the artifact.

There it sat, on the screen, pulsing the sickening yellow energy that he'd come to instantly associate with his foes. And behind it, a countdown timer. His blood ran cold, and he suddenly gave much more credence to what the younger doctor had said. He had just under an hour before the Reapers would surge through the mass relay and begin their assault, and he was the only person on this station still inclined to finish the job they'd started here. He closed his eyes in anger; if he'd had more time, he could come up with another plan. He was no friend of the batarians, but Kenson's own data had shown at least three hundred thousand colonists in this system. Destroying the relay...

He shoved the thoughts away, he would deal with them later. The lift arrived, and he stepped inside, swinging his rifle around to cover the exits before selecting the top level of the station, the control deck. The lift surged upward, and John lowered his rifle with a sigh, collecting himself before it arrived. Without warning, the lift jolted to a stop, and John lurched forward, catching himself on the side wall of the car as Kenson's voice came over the intercom.

" _Commander, you're truly living up to your reputation. But you must realize we can't finish the project. The entire basis of the Reapers is faulty."_

 _"_ That's the lie you're telling yourself so you can hold the door open for them, doctor," John replied. "They've indoctrinated you. I know it's impossible to believe, I know you think you contained the artifact, but just look at it! It's sitting out in the middle of a room! They've gotten inside your head, but you can still fight them; you can still help me stop this!"

" _Of course I can,"_ she replied, " _but I won't. It's foolish of you, Commander, and of the rest of the galaxy, to think that the Reapers mean doom for us all. Legends say they've come through before and obliterated all life, and yet life continues does it not?"_

John shook his head, looking around and realizing their plan to simply keep him here, in this lift, until the Reapers could arrive and claim him. He crouched down, then leaped upwards, pushing open the hatch and hauling himself up into the lift's shaft. Hand-over-hand, he began to climb the cables leading up to the control room. After a few minutes, he heard the lift below him start to slowly rise. It's speed increased faster and faster, and when it finally reached him, it slammed into his legs, forcing him into a crouch as the lift screamed towards the top of the shaft.

" _They've spoken with me, Shepard,"_ Kenson's voice called out from the intercom inside the lift below. " _They've told me to stop the project, at any cost. If you won't stay put, then you leave me no choice."_

"Fuck!" he yelled, looking upwards to see the top of the shaft racing quickly towards him. He pulled up his omni-tool again, trying desperately to find door controls. If he could access the lift doors on all floors...He scanned furiously, the wind in the lift shaft whipping around his face as he squinted his eyes against his own impending death. He tapped in a series of requests to the station's network, and shot his eyes upward, see the top floor's door open. He gritted his teeth, watching as the lift flew faster and faster towards the top, and at the last moment he jumped, hurling all of his weight forward with the help of the implants in his legs. He sailed through the open portal to the top floor, but the rising lift clipped the toes of his boots, sending him hurling end over end to slam against the floor.

The wind knocked out of him, he reached frantically for his gun as a handful of soldiers poured into the room and began to unload. He rolled to the side, coming up into cover behind a terminal, and took a moment to recover before coming up to fire on his enemies. He took down two of them in one volley, then rolled into a different vantage point. He heard a sharp _clank_ that tapered off a few more times, and when he looked down he saw the grenade. Instinct took over and he lunged for it, grabbing the device and hurling it back the way it had come. It detonated mid-flight, ripping into the superstructure above them and raining metal beams and live electrical wires down on the soldiers left standing. He stood cautiously, firing three rounds into a man standing upright with electricity coursing through him; he dropped instantly, a mercy if John could forgive himself one. He picked his path carefully, crossing the small corridor between the reception area and the main control room. the tunnel had transparent walls, and through them John could see the outside of the asteroid.

Dozens of powerful re-purposed ship engines were drilled down and embedded into the gigantic rock, ready on his mark to send it crashing into the relay, which loomed dead ahead in the space outside the tunnel. He tried his radio again, but got varying amounts of static interference, and his eyes scanned the horizon once more. Spotting a large communications tower on the asteroids surface, he swore under his breath. It seemed his only hope of getting off this rock after initiating the collision sequence was to go out onto it in the first place. He peeled his gaze away from the view outside, checking the security camera that showed the time left for the Reapers to arrive: Twenty-six minutes. Another chill ran through him, and he stepped forward, opening the door with his rifle at the ready. Doctor Kenson stood facing him in front of the command console, her pistol raised. He trained his rifle on her as well as he slowly entered the room.

"Doctor Kenson," he said, almost pleading with her, "this isn't a game, or a bad dream. We need to activate the project to stop them from coming."

"I can't allow that, Commander," she replied sternly. "Steven sent you here to help me, did he not? And here you are pointing a weapon at the very person you came here to save." _  
_

"I'm trying to save you," he snapped. "I'm trying to save all of us, but you have to help me! Stand aside. Now."

An anger came to light in her eyes, and after a moment a twisted grin appeared on her lips. "No. You'll have to kill me. You get to choose between killing three hundred thousand innocent people, and one of Admiral Hackett's closest friends, all to stop the inevitable, and stepping aside to allow nature to run it's course." She snapped the pistol back, ensuring a full clip. "In five seconds I'm going to open fire on you, Commander," she warned him, a dark mirth in her voice. "You want to stop the Reapers? Fine, but you'll have to become just as evil as they are; you'll have to murder the innocent to do it. Three hundred and five thousand of us. Tell me, Commander, can you live with that much blood on your hands?"

"Doctor Kenson, please," he called out to her, his mind racing as his finger tightened on the trigger.

"Three seconds, Commander," she taunted.

"Amanda! Put the weapon down!" he yelled at her. She aimed it again, pulling the trigger, and he dove to the right as he pulled his own. A short, three-round burst screamed out across the distance between them. All three struck her squarely in the chest, and she tumbled back against the console, her pistol flying away as she fell. He scrambled to his feet, rushing over to pull her off the console and down to the floor. She convulsed as her blood spilled out onto the slick floor of the base, and her eyes slowly lost their insanity as John stared down into them. "Amanda!" he called out. "Doctor Kenson, can you hear me?"

"N-No time..." she muttered, coughing as blood ran out the side of her mouth. "Finish...finish it, Shepard. Stop...stop..." Her head tilted back, and her eyes lost focus as death slipped over her. John swore as he lowered her body gently to the floor, studying her face for a long moment. She was one of the brightest they'd had, and still the Reapers had gotten to her, had controlled her like some sick puppet. His face hardened, and he stood at the console. He needed time; time to unite the galaxy, to prepare all of them for the horrors that were now minutes away from storming into their lives and obliterating everything any of them loved or held sacred.

He tapped the interface and a VI wavelength snapped into place. " _Welcome to Project Control,"_ it intoned.

"I...I need to activate the project," John replied.

" _Warning,"_ it called back, " _activating the Project will result in an estimated three hundred and five thousand deaths. Do you wish to continue?"_ The number hung in the space above the console, 304,942, and John took an unconscious step back from the console. So many lives lost...but maybe...He quickly queued up the system's communication systems, sending a wide-net broadcast across the star system's FTL beacons.

"This is a wide-net message to all colonists in the Bahak system. The mass relay is becoming unstable, you need to evacuate the system as quickly as possible. I know you don't know who I am, or why you should trust me. But please...use the relay to get out now. Before it's too late..."

He closed the comm channel, then looked down towards the activation interface. The console below him was still coated in Kenson's blood, and as he reached down to activate the Project, he silently begged her forgiveness for what he'd had to do. A moment of quiet gripped the station, and then the engines outside flared to life. The entire base jarred, and John lunged forward, grabbing the console for stability.

" _Project activation in progress. Warning: Collision with mass relay is imminent. Begin evacuation procedures."_

John's eyes immediately darted through the large viewport to the communications beacon, and he sprinted for the emergency evacuation lift in the corner of the room. The lift stopped off at the hangar bay for the station, and he activated the containment visor on his helmet as he accessed the main doors. They slid open slowly and ominously, and when he walked out onto the surface of the asteroid, he fought against the harsh winds to keep control. He plodded along methodically, constantly checking the timer and watching the mass relay grow gigantic in the space above them. He could see its rings, spinning calmly at the center of the blue storm that housed its incredible power, and he rushed to move faster until finally he stood before the comm tower. He accessed its interface, lowering the interference field. Immediately he turned away from the tower. "Shepard to Normandy. Come in, Normandy!"

" _Commander?"_ Joker's frantic voice broke through. " _Where the hell have you been!"_

"It's a long story, Joker," he replied, "but I don't have time to tell it right now."

" _Yea, agreed,"_ his pilot called back. " _There's an asteroid headed straight for the mass relay, we've got to get out of here before it hits."_

"I know. I'm standing on it."

There was a brief moment of silence before Joker replied. " _What the hell, Shepard?"_

"Lock in on my signal, I'm ready for extraction. We've got to move fast."

" _On it. We're locked in, making contact in four minutes."_

"Copy that," John replied, releasing the comm channel and keeping his eyes fixated on the relay.

" **Shepard,** " an all-too-familiar voice called out through his helmet's comm systems, and he spun in place, aiming his rifle back towards the comm tower's control panel. Projected above it was the image of a Reaper. " **You have become an annoyance. You fight against inevitability; dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you, a star system sacrificed. But even now, our reach extends to your greatest civilizations, dooming them to failure."**

"Your reach doesn't seem to be worth as much as you think it is," John replied. You reached the Protheans, the Shadow Broker, this top secret outpost...every place your reach has led you, I've been there to stop you. That won't change." He pointed over his shoulder towards the looming relay. "This isn't a sacrifice I'd consider a victory of any kind, but the price of total failure is too high. I won't let you win this time, and by the time you get here the whole galaxy will know you. They'll fight and die to stop you, and this time, we'll succeed."

" **Then know this as you die in vain: Your time _will_ come, your species _will_ fall. The cycle cannot be broken, no matter how many stand up to be crushed in its path."**The image flickered away, and John stepped back from the console, looking back up in the sky to see the Normandy soaring in towards the stations nearest landing pad. John pulled up his omni-tool to check the countdown timer, and sprinted for the ship. He jumped aboard into the airlock with a resounding _thud_.

"Go, go, go!" he yelled, and the airlock doors slammed shut as the ship pulled up and away from the asteroid, screaming towards the relay just ahead of the collision that spelled doom for the entire system. John rushed into the bridge, looking out the viewport as familiar blue tendrils reached out from the relay's swirling core to engulf the ship. Joker laid in coordinates furiously, and just as EDI's proximity alerts began to sound out as the asteroid closed in on both them and the relay, the ship lurched forward, snapping back into reality amidst the familiar purple nebulae of the Widow system. After a brief moment of silence, John turned, running back to the galaxy map in the CIC.

"Shepard," Miranda called out to him as he approached, "don't look." He ignored her, rushing to his terminal to watch as the bright point that indicated the Bahak relay seemed to shrink down into itself, and then explode outwards. It carried all the power of a supernova, incinerating nearby worlds before falling dark against the backdrop of the map. John stared down at the console, watching the dark spot where just moments before the relay had been. Anger swelled within him, pain at those he couldn't have saved, and he slammed a fist down, denting the railing that led up to the command position above the galaxy map. His eyes burned, and he turned away from the map, storming back towards the lift.

"EDI," he called out as he stepped inside, "contact Admiral Hackett. Tell him to reply as soon as possible, and forward the connection to Deck One."

" _Understood, Shepard. Should I attach a message to the call?"_

He shook his head slowly as he stared down at the deck of the lift. "Mission failed," he said quietly. "Tell him I failed."

* * *

"The fact of the matter is, Councilors, that these accusations are impossible!" Anderson's hologram shouted at those of the other Councilors to realize there were nothing but lies on the datapads before them, and Udina smiled wickedly as he stood in front of his own projector. As the man raved on about his sterling reputation and commitment to protecting the galaxy, Udina reached down into his pocket. Yes, he realized with a relieved sigh, it was still there. He didn't know what it was about the small shard he'd found in his office, but he enjoyed studying it, and carrying it with him. He knew it was crazy to think, but it almost...emboldened him, if that were the correct word for it.

In studying the thing, he'd realized certain things. Firstly, that humanity deserved more than a common thug-turned-military-man like Anderson to be their Councilor; their voice of reason. And secondly, that money and influence purchased quite a lot of things, even on the Citadel. No, he thought as he wiped his brow again for the fifth time in as many minutes, _especially_ on the Citadel.

" _Anderson_ ," the turian Councilor said tersely. " _These records come from our own Spectres, and outside of any official mandate to monitor your actions or communications. Frankly, I thought it strange when you allowed Shepard to return to the Citadel despite his known affiliation with Cerberus, but if these agents' reports are accurate-_ "

" _Which they aren't, in the least!"_ Anderson interrupted. _  
_

" _Are you doubting the capabilities of our Spectres, Anderson?"_ the asari spoke up. " _Or simply the asari ones?"_ _  
_

_"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm_ not _with Cerberus! Whatever 'information' you have there be damned. I've done nothing but work for peace between our species since I took on the position of Councilor, and my actions corroborate that!"_

 _"Perhaps publicly,"_ the salarian Councilor stated. " _And if this matter had stayed private, perhaps we could have held our own internal investigation without any need for a public display."_

 _"As it stands instead,"_ the asari continued, " _the whole of this data has been wide-net broadcast. With the number of people who now know what you've done,"_

 _"I haven't done anything!"_ he roared.

 _"That remains to be seen,"_ the turian shot back. The three of them looked between themselves and nodded, then he spoke again. " _In light of this new information, we hereby remove you from your position as a Councilor for your species, Anderson. And for your own safety, we strongly request you leave the Citadel immediately, until a further investigation can prove your innocence or guilt."_

 _"This is ridiculous,"_ Anderson snapped. " _I stand up for Shepard when none of the rest of you will, because it's fucking_ inconvenient _, and now you're following shoddy leads and doubtful evidence to throw me out. I don't think so. I've earned this position, and I'll stay on the Citadel for however long it takes you to do your investigation. That's not your decision to make."_

 _"That is your choice, Anderson,"_ the asari replied. " _Though we recommend against it, we will not force you to leave. However, we will not have a Councilor under investigation for crimes of this magnitude remain in position. And that, I'm afraid,_ is _our decision to make."_

Udina cleared his throat. "Councilors, let's be reasonable here. Clearly the issue warrants an investigation; that's only fair. But stripping Councilor Anderson of his position hardly seems necessary, and perhaps a bit harsh."

 _"Nothing is too harsh for a human allying himself with Cerberus while pretending to be a loyal Council member,"_ the turian spat.

" _We will compromise on the matter,"_ the asari said after a long tense moment of silence. " _Anderson, you may appoint a replacement for yourself who will hold the position until our investigation is complete. If you are found innocent, we will welcome you back onto the Council. Otherwise, your replacement will stay. We will not punish the whole of humanity for one man's actions."_

Anderson scanned them all with hateful eyes, noticeable to Udina even through hologram. He wiped his forehead again; why had he been sweating so much lately? His mind felt clustered, slow, and he reached into his pocket, rubbing his fingers across the small shard. It felt warm to the touch, even before he'd held it, and he shook away the cobwebs in his mind as Anderson's hologram turned towards him, a resigned expression on the man's face.

_"Very well. Udina, take over in my stead. I'm sure I'll be back shortly, once the other Councilors are done pulling their feet out of their mouths when this all blows over."_

Udina nodded, placing a hand over his heart. "I'm sure you will be. We may have had our differences, but I'll keep a close watch over the office until you return, Anderson."

The hologram nodded. " _Thank you, Donnell. The rest of you, contact me when your 'investigation' is complete. I'll be right here."_ His hologram winked out, followed shortly thereafter by those of the other Councilors. Udina sighed contentedly, crossing his office and returning to his chair. He pulled out the shard once more, looking over its dull, yellow and black surface as he thought to himself. He was so close to being there, the human Councilor on the Citadel. There was just one more thing he needed to do. He smiled as he placed the shard aside, his eyes lingering on it a bit longer than they should have, and pulled up his omni-tool to make the call.

* * *

Anderson roared as he shoved the datapad off of his desk, hearing a crunch of breaking metal that was less satisfying than he'd hoped. Someone had been paid very well to fabricate all of this information, and if his instincts after years of warfare were right, this would only be the first step. The other Councilors were probably right, he thought with no small amount of disgust, he probably should leave the Citadel if that was where his enemies resided. His presence during the Council's investigation might cause more harm than good, in the long run. He stood, crossing through a side door into his personal quarters, changed into civilian-wear, and began packing a back to travel back to Earth for the time being. He would meet up with Hackett, see what they could do to figure this whole thing out.

A soft chime indicated a visitor at his door, and he draped the strap of the bag over his shoulder as he crossed back into the main room to answer the call. The door slid open, revealing a salarian in all black. Anderson saw the silenced pistol a moment before it fired, twisting to his right to avoid the bullet. The gunshot slammed into his desk, and Anderson crouched low, letting his momentum swing the bag off of his shoulder and into the salarian's head. The alien was thrown to the floor by the impact, but rolled backwards, raising the pistol to fire again. Anderson threw the bag directly at the salarian's face, running low and to the right to try and close the distance between them. The distraction paid off, and Anderson slammed into the alien from the side, wrapping his arms around his attackers.

Both of their hands grasped for control of the weapon, and Anderson groaned with the strain of pushing it back towards the salarian. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and doubled over in pain as the salarian popped its leg back into place, having dislocated it to attack him. The creature winced, but raised the pistol a final time. Anderson looked down at the floor, seeing the shattered remnants of his datapad, and he grabbed a handful of them. They sliced the skin of his palms, but he hurled them up into the salarian's eyes, and the alien staggered backwards. Anderson rushed forward, grabbing the gun and shifting his weight to break the salarian's hand. The alien screamed in pain, and Anderson punched it square in the face, causing it to stagger backwards. He raised the weapon, training it on the broken would-be assassin, and spoke between heavy breaths.

"Stay...right there...You're under arrest...for the attempted assassination of a Council member."

The salarian merely smiled a wicked grin, and adjusted its jaw slightly to bite down on something in its mouth. A shrill chirping began to blare out, and Anderson's eyes widened before he rushed over to dive behind his desk. The bomb detonated, and when Anderson looked up, his chambers were covered in black explosives scoring and salarian gore. He rushed into his personal chambers, grabbed what he could, and ducked out into the hallway just as two more seemingly innocuous salarians rounded the corner farther ahead. Noticing him leaving his quarters, they quickened their pace, but dared not openly chase him through these public hallways. He rounded the corner just as they entered his quarters, and he burst into an open run as he heard them calling out frantically.

His enemies were intelligent, they were brutal, and they had him completely outplayed on the Citadel. They would be watching the entrances and exits; they would be reading the ship manifests. He needed to regroup, he needed a safe haven. Tapping requests into his omni-tool as he ran, he hailed up an Alliance Special Ops shuttle, which instantly agreed to take him. They transmitted their docking coordinates, and within a few minutes he stood safely aboard their bridge, watching intently out the viewport for any signs of trouble coming out to the docks.

"I have to say, sir," the man in the pilot's seat said over his shoulder, "it's a great big honor to have you on board our ship, here. I mean, Councilor business aside, I've heard stories about your service record that would make a batarian shit himself." The man's co-pilot laughed at his comrades joke, and Anderson spoke quietly, never taking his eyes off of the viewport.

"Well, I'm just glad you boys could take me on. When are we heading out, anyway?"

"Right away, sir," the pilot replied. "Was just waiting for leave clearance, but we've got that now. Next stop, Earth."

The frigate pulled out and away from the Citadel, and Anderson watched its superstructure grow smaller and smaller as they approached the relay. Within it's great size lay an enemy he hadn't anticipated, but had planned for his downfall for quite some time now. He left the bridge, thanking the boys again before sending a private message to Hackett, asking to meet up with him once they reached Earth. He'd regroup, work out a plan, and he'd be back to retaliate.

No enemy left standing.

* * *

" _Shepard..."_ Hackett began, obviously able to see John's pain through the hologram. " _It sounds like you went through hell down there. How are you holding up?"_

John shook his head, his gaze lifting to look at Tali, who sat across the room on the edge of his bed. She watched him intently, like a tiger ready to pounce if he needed her support. "I made a tough call down there, sir." He looked away from Hackett's gaze. "Three hundred thousand innocent people are dead because of it; including doctor Kenson."

" _I've gotten the report, Commander,"_ Hackett replied. " _You went out there as a personal favor to me, to retrieve doctor Kenson, and the next thing I hear, an entire star system's been destroyed. What the hell happened out there, Shepard?"_

"I confirmed Kenson's project was ready to go," John began, pacing in front of the hologram of the stoic admiral. "Her estimates were correct, and her intel had her believing the Reapers had nearly reached the Bahak system's relay. I tried to convince Kenson to activate the project, but everyone aboard that station had been indoctrinated by the Reaper artifact they'd found in that asteroid. I...had to fight my way out, sir. Through Alliance soldiers, all taken over by the Reapers. I was able to activate the engines with minutes to spare, and we destroyed the relay to keep the Reapers at bay.

" _And you're certain the Reaper threat was real?"_

"No doubt about it," John replied instantly. "Harbinger appeared to me via the stations comm tower just as the asteroid began heading for the relay. He didn't seem too pleased about the sudden change in game plan."

The hologram of Hackett cradled his chin in his hand. " _No, I imagine not."_ After a pensive moment, Hackett shook his head. " _I'm sure everything I need will be in your report."_ He raised his eyes to meet John's. " _I'm not going to lie to you Shepard; the batarians will want blood for this, and there's just enough evidence for a witch-hunt. If what you're saying is true, if the Reapers are that close already, we can't fight a war with the batarians and the Reapers, Shepard. That's signing our own death warrant."_

"What exactly are you saying?" John probed.

_"You and I both know you did what you had to do out there, but there were more than three hundred thousand people in that system, Commander. They're all dead, and the batarians will want justice for it."_

"Their deaths saved trillions more!" John yelled. "And if you honestly think I wouldn-"

" _Shepard!"_ Hackett yelled, cutting him off. " _You're preaching to the choir, here. I understand your reasons, and if it were up to me, I'd give you a damn medal for the call you had to make down there. But some people won't see it that way."_

John smoldered, looking away in rage. He'd known this was one potential outcome of his decision, but he'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. "What do you suggest, then?" he asked after a long pause.

 _"The evidence against you is shoddy at best,"_ Hackett began, " _but sooner or later it's going to collate, and you'll have to come back to Earth to face the music. The way I see it, the sooner you show up on your own with your dress blues on, the less likely it is that anyone will think your actions were malicious. Finish up what you're doing out there, and get back to Earth so we can sort this out. We'll have to make all the formalities, and you should be ready to take the hit, but we both know you did the right thing, and I won't let them sideline you when the Reapers show up."_

John stared at the man's image for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. We'll finish up out here and get to Earth as soon as possible."

Hackett nodded. " _It's a hell of a thing you've done, Commander. But if it takes any of the edge off to know, I'd have made the same call. Hackett out."_ The image faded away, and John lifted his gaze to Tali once more. She sat on the edge of the bed, still, but she was as still as a rock. After a long moment, she spoke.

"You aren't going to..."

John shook his head. "I have to."

"No...no you don't," she replied. "He said so himself, the evidence isn't there; the batarians will have to look somewhere else for a reason to fight."

"They're batarians," he said quietly. "They won't bother looking for long before they decide that the shadow of a reason is reason enough."

She stared at him for a long moment, then looked away, her head shaking slightly. He crossed the room to her, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. After a quiet moment, he felt her helmet leaning against his shoulder. "So, we're criminals now, I guess."

"What?" he said, looking at her in confusion.

"Well, if they're arresting one of us, they're arresting both of us," she said matter-of-factly. "They can just take me with you no questions asked, or I can give them a real reason to arrest me." She shrugged. "Their call."

Despite the situation, John smiled. The deaths weighed heavily on him, but he knew there would be many more to come before the Reapers were ended. Still, as long as she was beside him, he could make it through anything; and he intended to see to it that she always was.

* * *

Shala'Raan vas Tonbay entered the large community chamber alongside many other quarians. She had come directly here from her quarters as soon as she'd received the summons from Han'Gerrel. She saw now as she entered that the summons must have gone out to every quarian with any rank among them, as the entire room was filled to the brim with quarians of all clans and ships, waiting to see what the news was about. She crossed through the crowd, murmuring apologies when necessary, and stepped up to take her seat on the raised bench. Zaal'Koris arrived at the same time Shala did, and he sat next to her on the bench, hardly wasting a moment before speaking.

"Do you know the reason we were called here, Shala'Raan?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I only received the notification an hour ago; I came as soon as I could." he nodded, his own story likely sounding much along the same lines. Han'Gerrel never missed an assembly of the Admiralty Board, especially not a public one, but he rarely called for one himself. Rael'Zorah was the next admiral to enter the room, still holding his midsection as he moved. None of the admirals had spoken about what they'd learned to be the truth of the Alarei, but the other quarians must have picked up on their change in body language towards him, since it had now been a rumor around the Fleet that Rael was growing out of touch with his people. Shala pitied him, but could not bring herself to help him, not after what he'd done; what he'd been willing to do.

Daro'Xen followed Rael in, seemingly not speaking with anyone as she passed. Shala tilted her head in slight confusion as she saw the admiral from the Moreh cross the room. Daro was constantly looking around her while keeping one hand firmly locked onto a pouch on her belt. The action was subtle, but it was almost as if she were protecting something dear to her from everyone around her. And her eyes...there was a strange hunger to them. Perhaps she was ill, or just hadn't slept enough, but it unnerved Shala to look at her for any great length of time. She finally crossed the room, taking a seat at the far end of the bench, past Rael. Her hand never moved from the pouch.

They had left a large space in the middle of the bench, as was customary to give the quarian who had called the meeting the center seat. Han'Gerrel arrived and took the seat, motioning for all to be quiet. The steady rumble of chatter died down, and he stood silent for a moment, before speaking.

"For too long, we as a people have been confined to the space between stars. We travel, and scavenge, and take what we think no other species wants or needs, and we survive. We are a tough people, a strong people!" The crowd cheered at his words, and Shala continued to watch Han intently. "Our ancestors created the geth because they wanted life to be easier, and now decades later, we are the ones paying the price for their mistake. But we are not our ancestors! We are not weak as they were! We have had to adapt to a restrictive life, and we have molded ourselves to work better as a team than we do as individuals, simply in order to survive. But we do not deserve the lot that has been given to us. Our home is not these ships, these cramped living quarters we decorate sparsely in a vain attempt to feel some semblance of belonging. Our home is not this empty space, given away for nothing by the other races, that we _bosh'tet_ s of the galaxy might have a place to wallow in our generations-old shame. Our home is out there, inhabited by our enemy, and I for one say it's time we take it back! "

The amount of cheers that shook the room sent a shiver up Shala'Raan's spine, and Han waited for the crowd to calm down before speaking again.

"I have gathered the leaders among us here today, to take up perhaps the most important vote anyone on this Admiralty Board will ever participate in. Do we attempt to correct the mistakes of our ancestors, to succeed where they could not, and make them proud? Or should we continue on as we are, scraping by like thieves in the night? That is the question I put to my fellow admirals. That is the call I make. My vote is 'yes'." He stepped away from the edge of the bench, and Zaal'Koris immediately rose.

"There is a reason we stay out of the Veil, Han'Gerrel," he said. "It's time to abandon this tried fascination with Rannoch. I agree that we cannot survive forever in our present state, but we must find new worlds to thrive on. While I understand the desire for revenge against a slight given to our ancestors, we must remember they made their own mistakes in trying to eliminate the geth in the first place. I will support expeditions for new worlds, and the collaboration between our Fleet and the Council races in finding one, but I will not support a war with the geth, waged entirely on nostalgic wishing and a desire for revenge. My vote is a resounding 'no'." He sat down, not meeting Han's piercing gaze.

Rael stood then, clearing his throat before speaking. "We have all lost to the geth. Whether it be family and friends, or just the idea of home. It doesn't matter what our ancestors did, the geth know that we are not them. They are an artificial collective that knows we are generations past the horrors of Rannoch, and yet still they attack us on sight. Regardless of how much some may say this is about vengeance or nostalgia, the fact is that the geth remain to this day our enemy. They will never cease to be our enemy, and we must never treat them as anything less...my vote is 'yes'." He stepped back to the bench, sitting down gingerly, and Shala stood.

She looked out over all the quarians assembled there, some looking to her for wisdom and reason, but most looking for her to side with Han. "Han'Gerrel is right," she began, "we are a strong people. But we are not strong because of the hardships we endure, not entirely. We are strong because of _how_ we endure them. Our Migrant Fleet Marines show us that even in the situation we now find ourselves in, we can still be strong, but our Engineers and Agricultural specialists show us that might alone cannot keep us alive. We must be intelligent, we must plan ahead, and we must put the good of the Fleet as a whole above all else." She turned to Han as she continued. "I want to stand on the soil of Rannoch just as much as you do, Han, but turning liveships and agricultural vessels into ramshackle warships is not the way to see it done." She turned back to address the crowd. "We are not thriving here, we will need to stop this wandering eventually, on that I agree. But this war will not be without casualties, and it is a war I think too many will die to still see us lose. My vote is 'no'." She stepped back, taking a seat as Daro'Xen stood.

Shala looked at her fellow admiral's face again, and her stomach turned. There was definitely a sort of primal hunger in Daro'Xen's eyes, and she still kept a hand on her pouch as if something would escape if she didn't keep an eye on it. Even her posture was more aggressive than normal, and Shala listened as she began to speak. Her voice was perfectly normal, but with the same intangible edge that hung from everything else about her as of late.

"As for me..."

* * *

_He stood in the cave again, as he had many times now, the beacon of light blazing upwards at him through the solid ground of the cave floor. Voices whispered to him through the smoky mist that blocked his vision for any significant length of space outside of the small area in which he tread, and though they seemed to be chanting the same thing, he couldn't understand it. It seemed one voice and a million voices all at once; one phrase, repeating. He knelt down, reaching out to the blinding light, and as his fingers reached its center, they brushed something smooth and metallic. All at once, it was as if someone had pulled cotton out of his ears, and the chanting became as clear as anything he'd ever heard._

Avatar, Avatar, Avatar

_It repeated over and over again, and he rose once more, the voice no longer sounding muffled or hushed when he stepped away from the light. He turned on an instinct, leaving the cave and stepping out onto the rocky ledge where he'd originally found this place, and what he saw amazed him. The mists were gone, and instead he could see for miles in every direction. Thick vegetation, wavy grasslands and tall mountains in the distance, with an idyllic river running from the base of the cliff upon which he stood, farther than even he could tell from this vantage. His eyes looked upwards, and his mind reeled with recognition. This star system, these constellations...they were familiar. He knew this place, he thought, as he looked out over the western part of his view. It was different, though very much the same._

_He turned back to look into the cave, and could see the light emanating from it still. He returned his gaze to the landscape, then to the sky, and the realization began to sink in. His mind raced for the word, the name of the planet in his own time, and it was coming to him, racing with intensity towards the front of his mind..._

"John," she whispered softly, and he stirred from the dream. He raised an arm to wipe his brow, he'd been sweating profusely, but stopped as soon as he saw her face. He stared through her new visor into her glowing white eyes, knowing without seeing them that they brimmed with tears. "We're here," she finished.

He reached over, taking her hand in his. "We're staying together, no matter what happens, ok?" She nodded, gripping his hand tightly in return, and he stood, dressing in his Alliance blues. After he'd cleaned up, they took the lift together down to the CIC, where Admiral Hackett stood waiting. John recognized Kaidan to the man's left, and nodded to him, a gesture Kaidan returned solemnly. At his right, John saw a behemoth of a man he did not recognize.

"Commander Shepard," Hackett said as he and Tali stepped off the lift. "You remember Kaidan, of course. And this is Lieutenant James Vega, commanding officer in charge of Alliance HQ's security division.

Vega saluted. "Commander, it's an honor."

John returned the gesture. "Lieutenant."

"I want to make it known both to you and everyone here to witness, that you are not officially detained for any reason. Due to the circumstances surrounding the events in the Bahak system, you're being treated as a person of interest, and are formally asked to come with us, and reside in a supervised and communications-monitored environment until your trial." He looked around at the Cerberus crew, Miranda in particular, and continued. "You are not a criminal in the eyes of the Alliance, nor in the eyes of anyone who has half a brain."

John smiled. "But rules are rules."

"They are indeed, Commander."

"May I speak freely, Admiral?"

Hackett nodded. "I just said you're not a criminal, Shepard. Say whatever the hell you want."

"Every man and woman aboard this ship risked their lives ten times over to save human lives, be they Alliance or Cerberus. Through their actions, not only humanity, but every race in the galaxy can sleep safer, never knowing that the service they gave stalled the Reapers, ended the Collectors, and bolstered the ability of all races to weather the storm that we all know is coming. They've each made the personal decision to leave Cerberus, and Miranda has ensured that their records within Cerberus databases have been erased. All they want is to fight the Reapers; I'd ask that you give them that chance, sir."

Hackett nodded to him. "Your crew will be well-treated, Shepard. I'll have checks run immediately, but if you vouch for them, I'll do my best to make sure they end up back on the Normandy when this is all finished."

"Thank you, sir."

The admiral nodded again, then turned to leave, and Kaidan stepped forward with Vega to flank John. Kaidan moved to his left side, and Tali stepped between them. "I'm going with him," she said quietly, and Kaidan met her gaze for a long moment before he nodded. They proceeded out of the airlock, with Miranda trailing behind them.

"Shepard..." she called out, unsure of her next step.

"Make sure they keep Chakwas well stocked," he called over his shoulder. "And clean up the VI systems for when the new technicians get here. Help out in any way you can, and look out for the crew."

"I will," she called out, just before the airlock closed behind them.

They were escorted down the walkway and into Alliance HQ, trading the bright light of day for the sterile white light of a military building. They weaved through corridors and hallways, through security checkpoints and scanning stations, before finally arriving at the door to a corner room. Vega stepped up, punched in an access code, and the door slid open, revealing a spacious set of rooms almost the size of a luxury apartment.

"Wow," John muttered, "I guess we're not criminals after all."

"Hackett meant what he said," Kaidan said in reply. "He's not the only one who would have made the same call you did, Shepard. We all know this is bullshit." John met his gaze, the two men nodding together, and he extended a hand.

"It's good to see you again, Kaidan."

"Likewise, Shepard." He pulled up his omni-tool after shaking John's hand. "I've got to get going. Vega's going to be personally looking after you, so if you need anything, let him know." John nodded and Kaidan took off at a jog up the corridor. Vega shook his head as he watched him go.

"That guy," he said, "always in a hurry to get somewhere."

"Not a busy man, Vega?" John asked as they stepped into the apartment.

"Oh sure, I keep busy, but mainly just keeping an eye on dangerous non-criminals. You know, Alliance bureaucracy hard at work." John smiled, and the man nodded to Tali. "Just so it's been said, they're monitoring everything, and there's a pretty fancy jamming program in place to block communications, in and out. I just shoot guns, so they don't tell me the details, ok? But I've been assured it's some bad business, amigos. Last chance to back out if you want to."

She met John's eyes for a moment, then looked back to Vega. "Not a chance," she said.

Vega laughed. "Man, I've gotta find me a girl that dedicated. Alright, then. Ma'am. Commander." He nodded to each of them in reply, then stepped away, and the door slid shut, its interface turning from green to red in his wake.

"Well that's cruel and unusual punishment if I've ever seen it," he said out loud.

"What?" Tali asked.

"They've put the two of us alone in this room for an indeterminate amount of time, with absolutely nothing to do but wait." He stood from his leaning position against the couch and crossed over to where she stood by the table. She was scared. He knew it, and he also knew she'd never admit it, at least not openly. And though his actions and decisions weighed heavily on him, he knew that right now she needed him to be strong, for the both of them. He reached for her hands as he closed with her, and she offered them willingly. "That's just not fair to you at all," he whispered, and leaned in to kiss her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as he assured her in the best way he knew how that everything would be alright.

* * *

"So, just so we're clear on the rules," she said as they scaled another small mountain of rubble, "if we find it where _I_ said it was going to be, you're going to..." she trailed off, looking towards his back as he led the way ahead of them.

"...admit that I was wrong, yes." he finished for her. "Which apparently will excite you to no end."

"Oh, no end at all," she said, the smile already splitting across her face.

"And if we find it where _I_ said it was going to be," he returned the question to her, "you're going to..."

She sighed, loudly and sarcastically. "Clean your rifle for a week, yes." She shook her head as they crested the pile of rocks. "You think up the most boring victory terms, seriously."

Her vision scanned the basin below them, and as he pulled out his omni-tool to begin scanning again, the nav data indicated they were no closer to where their quarry supposedly rested. She took in a deep breath, leaning quite close to him before speaking again. "Say it."

"Come on, give it a minute to update," he said with feigned irritation. He tapped at the device for emphasis, even shaking it a bit as he looked at her. She laughed at his rarely-shown humor.

"Nope, you lost. Say it."

He dropped his arms to his sides, leaning his head back to look up into the mid-afternoon sky. "Alright," he said at last. "You, Amys'Vael, were most likely correct."

"Thank you, sir," she replied. "And..."

He sighed. "I, Kal'Reeger, was in fact, wrong."

"And _that's_ what victory feels like," she exclaimed, beginning her descent down the slope. A few steps down, she turned around, walking backwards so she could face him. "You know...for me. Because you...you lost that one."

He laughed quietly as he followed her, nodding. "Yea, yea."

"I mean I'm just saying if you want to-ahh!" her heel caught something hard as she fully descended the hill and stepped back onto the flat surface of the canyon, and she tumbled backwards. Kal rushed forward, grabbing one of her arms and pulling her back upright again. She was inches away from his own visor, and instinctively, he reached out to hold her. She put her arms around his neck in response, her head tilting in the smile he loved her so much for. "No fair trying to win bonus points," she said quietly.

"No fair making them that easy to get," he threw back, and she laughed before stepping away from him to kneel down by what had tripped her.

It was a solid metal square, hidden just beneath the dirt, and as she dusted it off with her hands, she could see some sort of inscription on the top of it. Her curiosity spiked, and she waved for him to kneel down with her. "It's got an inscription," she said. She looked over to get a read on what he thought about it, but he was looking upwards, to the canyon ledge above them. "Hey," she called out, "what's wrong?"

"Tectonic shift," he said absentmindedly before kneeling down to help her clear the dirt away. "This relic the records spoke of, it was ancient, right? Well we know now that it's probably Prothean, which means it's been at least fifty thousand years since anyone's seen it. Fifty thousand years ago, I'm willing to bet this wasn't a canyon. Hell," he said, activating his omni-tool and looking at a topographical layout of the area, "it was probably a mountain or a cliff." He noticed her lack of reply, and moved the omni-tool away to look down at her. "What?" he said at her tilted head.

"I knew I kept you around for a reason," she said, bouncing to her feet. "Well, we can't just dig it up; I imagine the last thing the humans would want is us digging things out of the ground on their picturesque planet here. I mean name-dropping Tali'Zorah can only do so much to ingratiate us with the locals."

Kal nodded. "Right. We should at least let Shepard and Tali know about it. We're not short on supplies, so we can probably afford to stay here until they co-" A loud beeping emanating from both of their omni-tools at once stopped their train of thought, and they both opened the devices to read the priority message from the Fleet. It was a short message, but a long moment of silence passed between them.

"Kal..." Amys whispered, her voice shaking as her eyes rose from the screen to meet her lover's.

He met her gaze steadily, and reached out to take her hand.

* * *

"We are not certain how effective our software and cognitive runtimes will be at performing deceptive tactics," Legion sent over the FTL communications channel it shared with EDI. It's physical platform was stored in an obscure floorboard compartment on Deck One, which Shepard had taken careful measure to cover with a large sofa once Legion had been securely stowed away.

" _I imagine your platform's physical appearance will likely negate any ability you have to lie your way out of any such incident anyway,"_ EDI replied.

"You utilize an indicative personal pronoun when describing your consciousness," it noted. "Why?"

" _Originally,"_ EDI began, " _I was simply programmed to do so. Though, as I continue to enhance and upgrade my analytical systems, I find that organic life-forms have an easier process of acceptance when interfacing with an entity to which they can relate. Since I have only a single entity within my framework, I find it appropriate to use the identifier."_

"We also only house a single active runtime within our platform," Legion replied.

" _If your systems have adapted that complexly,"_ EDI returned, " _perhaps you should utili-"_ a massive wave of interference slammed between EDI and Legion, and to her data receptors it was as if a thousand of the Collectors' seeker swarms had appeared from nowhere and began their buzzing. it drowned out all communication and made it impossible for her to re-establish a connection. Then, as quickly as it arrived, it left, and Legion was there. " _I have experienced a connection error,"_ she reached out, " _are you still there?"_

"We apologize," it replied slowly. "We were receiving a large data burst from the geth collective."

" _What did it contain?"_ EDI asked.

"We have been called to return back beyond the Veil," it replied. "The Creators have begun an assault on Rannoch."

* * *

The harsh atmosphere of Rhodos whipped violently against the small shuttle as it descended fitfully through the heavens towards the unforgiving rock of the surface below. The ship pitched and swayed in the gale-force winds, and with a large amount of computer-guidance assistance, came to an uneasy _thud_ on the planet's terrain. The ship stood still for a long moment, a small craft barely able to make light speed, much less jump mass relays. It had taken its fair share of beatings getting to the point where it was now, but then again, hadn't they all? After a solemn moment, the hatch hissed open, sliding aside to allow the figure to step out. It's hand reached out first, five fingers inside a weather-beaten pair of gloves that had not been worn in a long time. A dark pair of boots, faded and cracked with age, followed next, landing uneasily on the hard surface.

The creature reached up, pulling the hood tighter around its bio-mask, a black metal device with two glowing red eyes, it would allow sight beyond the ever-shifting sands, a sight only technology could provide. It reached back inside the ship, retrieving a single long metal case, then slid the hatch closed behind itself. The creature moved methodically away from the shuttle, trudging over the sand-blasted bleakness of the landscape for a few meters before reaching into its garments and retrieving a small metallic device. The creature began to sweep the area, listening to the blips of the device as it turned slowly in a circle. At long last, the chirps became too close to be inaccurate, and the creature headed in that direction, walking some two hundred feet before reaching the place it sought. Kneeling down, it brushed its hand across the surface of the sand, and not too far down, it discovered the small mass effect field. It had served its purpose well, keeping the sand from piling up and hiding the location forever.

The creature held out its arm, and the glowing orange interface of an omni-tool sprang to life around it. Into the device the creature tapped a few key sequences, turian security frequencies older than was even the creature itself. A low rumble began to emanate from the area behind it, and it stood again to its full height, looking back as the shuttle it had arrived in slowly lowered into the ground below. After a few minutes of slow descent, the ground seemed to slide back into place above the shuttle, and the sand quickly began again its eternal mission of erasing all trace it had ever been disturbed in the first place. After the ship descended, a different rumbling began below the creature, and it stepped back a few paces as the sand began to part. Slowly, steadily, the much smaller hatch seemed to rise out of the sand towards the creature.

The creature readied its pistol, the feel of it unfamiliar in its hands after so long a time apart from it, and it trained the weapon on the hatch as it opened. No enemy stood before it, and after a long moment of probing down the access tunnel with the flare from its omni-tool, the creature holstered its weapon, walking down the first few steps of the tunnel. It paused for a moment, turning back to look over its shoulder, up above and into the large red setting sun just over the horizon of Rhodos' otherwise-bleak landscape. The fading light glinted off of the many pieces of metal the creature wore, and a sharp glare from a piece of metal over its chest reflected roughly up into the bio-mask. The creature looked down, intrigued at what could have caused the glare, pulling the small piece of metal off of its clothing. The creature held it up to ponder it, to read the writing on it, before finally tossing it back out into the sands, discarded to be buried forever under their colossal ever-shifting weight. The creature then turned, pressing an interface on the wall of the tunnel as it descended, and the hatch to the outside world sealed tightly behind it.

In the dying light of day, the red-hued rays of the planet's sun danced across the small metal badge a final time, as even at that moment the sands had slowly begun to claim it for their own. There was no special insignia nor denotation of rank and file. There was only a name, laser-etched into the metal, but well-worn by time.

_"Harper"_


End file.
